Mom was dead. I couldn't believe it. I wish

Mom was dead. I couldn't believe it. I wish I never

let her open a Facebook account. I could see mom tending Farmville on the internet while I was sizing coffins. She had 200 friends but I was the only one at her funeral.

This may have been because I killed all her friends, I'm not sure. But at any rate I had plenty of coffins left over for all of them, so it wasn't hard to dispose of the bodies.

But it was hard to dispose of the mattresses. So he dragged the mattress down the stairs to the curb and left it there. Across the street a cop eating a taco so him and

said "Oi, what do you think you are doing?" He choked on his taco. "I'm providing a bed to the homeless officer, is there a problem?" Yeah, you forgot a pillow"

The Homeless Officer produced a king sized down pillow with 300 thread count Egyptian cotton quilted pillowcase and laid it down. Ever since the Homeless Comfort Reform law of 2012

, the heuristic hobos had pillows, Tempur-Pedic air mattresses, and grocery carts without rusty wheels. With the federally aided comforts, the hobos could complete their journey to

the annual Hobo convention taking place in Britt,Iowa. The delegates debated whether to induct "Box Car Willie" as honorary member of the Hobo union. The hardcore hobo faction

pined for charity and grace and the ghosts of trains past, the humble humor of Red Skelton, and a life of uncertain but broad horizons. But for now, cubicles would trump cardboard

yet...hobos will still hop trains, kids will still put pennies on the tracks, and some of us will still hear that lonesome whistle blow.