He's a real folding man sitting in his folding

He's a real folding man sitting in his folding land making all his random folds for nobody.Doesn't have a point of view.Knows not where he's going to. Isn't he a bit like you & me?

Or who could forget this one? "The tool on the hill sees the world spinning round, and the folds in his mind he must write them down."

Or this one? "Eleanor Rigby picks up the folds in the church where a wedding has been, lives in a dream, waits at her computer, folding the folds that she keeps in a jar by the doo

r. All the foldy people where do their folds come from? All the foldy people where do they all belong? Fr. Mackenzie writing the words to a fold earning only 1 point-so he smokes a

joint. Ellen Kapinski, picks out the lice in his head where the scratching has been. It's not a sin. Waits by the window, wearing a thong that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who

wants some more? All the hungry people. Where do they all come from? All the hungry people. Where will they all sit down?! Father McMurtry, writing the words of a paper that no one

would read for a hundred and thirteen years after the slow starving apocalypse of the famine. Father McMurtry was elevated to the status of saint when an acolyte discovered his

aptly named restaurant, "Cheese and Rice." Though they had a capacity issue, meaning many of the hipster nuns and priests were cross to cross, it was the place to be. Saint McMurty

only had two miracles up his sleeve - heal cleft palate and "saintly glow while praying for the end of famine" so he was stationed in a dark corner before the statue of Our Lady of

Lipreading, mouthing the words to her incantation. His warm hands parted. Confidently, he lay them on the table, and made his choice.