Feel like writing haikus about food poisoning. Or was it the other way around? On, on on, not seven five seven, on on on on on!
My head, my head…
A lot IN THE HEAD, very little resolved. Sleepfevers and coldwaterdreams. Shiverblanket. Bathtubprison.
Where’s the ginger ale?
Wolves. Priestesses in the bedroom. Night terrors of well-dressed clergymen talking about my options. Well watered thorn bushes the closest I get to a legacy.
Wonder what the tv children watch?
Scooby doo acid trips. Duck tails cocaine breakfast. Pinky and the brain. Pinky and the ‘shrooms. Pink ‘shrooms. Tom and Jerry through the bong smoke and downer rainfall.
So glad I don’t do drugs. I don’t miss this.
Spiral up, down, up, down. Consciousness in, consciousness out. Heat, no sweat. The screaming willy whispers. Giggling howl. Woke up and hit the wall in blind fear.
Two shots, like any good frontier child.
FULL MARCH YOU SAINTS. DAMN DEVIL GONNA PAY.
Fumbling dreams of sex and revolvers and disconnected thoughts. Betrayed. Befuddled.
Dreamless four hours. Dreamless four blankets.
Then 98.6 and sweet shower sanity.
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