I fold orange con­struc­tion paper along the lines the teacher drew in Sharpie. I tell him I don’t know, but maybe they do, qui­et­ly, where no one can see. Then he gives his paper tiger blue tears any­way, tucked just beneath the eyes. I don’t know whether he means for the tiger or for himself. ~Mathieu Parsy’s writ­ing has appeared or is forth­com­ing in Your Impossible Voice, BULL, Bending Genres and Maudlin House.