Loup Soup (1)

   
   "Loup Soup (1)"
   
   Like PREGO pasta sauce--it's in there.  Jasper knew this well.  Possibly, maybe too well.  He never said shit or damn or hell or offered up any profane vulgarities with vociferous announcement--instead, he kept it inside, like PREGO pasta sauce--it's in there. 
   Jasper lived in Nebraska.  He was tuned into the native formation of the landscape.  He collected Canadian silver coins, preferring the kind with canines ornamented upon the mint.  He was a strange fella, and would tell you he was stupid, and he was, but wasn't.  Like PREGO pasta sauce--it's in there.  
   He had a cat named Boxer, but didn't own the cat.  Nobody did.  The cat walked between both worlds, owning itself, and a bit of the spiritual realm.  But nobody believed.  Plugged into machines and driven by stones crafted beyond their purity, it was all goofy, yet Jasper liked linguine, the narrow ribbons, and was a French pastry taster for the local gas station, the attendant, right from the geography of Toulon.