Sunday, Dec. 08, 2002, 1:16 AM


I like to watch the way my hairs stick up on my arm when I get goose-bumps and I think about how an animal's fur rises to trap the air between the follicles to insulate the animal's body so that it will stay warm, and I wonder about the lack of fur on my arm to prevent the world from killing me with one swift cold shoulder and I marvel as I die at the way that my arm remembers to pucker it's kiss around the stem of every hair to save itself from the elements and I wonder if my dog ever wonders about it's fur when it's cold and the way it bristles at an intruder or the driving snow and I wonder if it ever wonders how I keep warm when I don't have enough fur to save my hide when my furnace is on the blink and the cracked window is allowing a miniature snow drift to pile up on my windowsill to disrupt the flow of ant traffic on the way to my side where half a bologna sandwich cowers in my shadow on the end table that will shift its weight to the shorter leg if I moved my drink three inches to the other side the next time I drink between commercials but I know that it won't because the nature shows on public television are run by the support of people generous people like me everywhere that have given away too much money to have their furnaces fixed because they believe in quality programming that their children can appreciate that isn't funded by some major soda company who would just fill their children's stomachs with garbage while their money funds programs that will fill their minds with garbage and never allow them the pleasure of watching the intricate dance that two birds involve in before mating and never notice the way the plumage stands on end in an attempt to attract the female's attention and lets me wonder why my arm never bristles until it is touched by a female as if it needs to attract her attention now that she is close enough to touch me now.