Tuesday, May 26, 2015


I’m attempting to avoid
all doctors until after the
White Party.  Maybe
that’s just stupid.  I

paid a guy $200 and
now my drive is hard.
I’m in pain, asleep
at work.  Rainy.  Painy.

A few feet from my
desk lies a tube of
peanut butter filling.
I’m telling you this

story during a storm,
standing in a puddle,
with an attack-heart
and a head-bludgeon.

One eye isn’t opening.
Fortunately, I keep a 
toothpick in my pocket to 
keep the other eye open.