feeling low but not beaten.
working as hard as i can and as quick as i can
while i am lucid.
sitting on the couch with nothing on but a
black beanie and red towel in the dark
with another beer.
i’m trying to ignore the impulse to shave off
all my body hair.
i don’t care how it looks but it gives me an
idea for what i’m going to paint next.
ants. one big gigantic mechanical stealthy
saturday morning decepticon transformer
motherfucker. the kind that makes me jump
up naked in my bed and slap at nothing
with a bath towel then use my cell phone
as a torch to look for the glory of my
kill.
there are limitations to my imagination.
i like my hair so i jumped in the shower.
this kind of stuff used to bother me but
i’ve settled into an uncomfortable state of
ease with it where i can ash on the floor
and not sweat it because i know it can
be swept up.
we have tools to make this thing easy
and i’m working.
i’m working as hard and as quickly as possible
because i have got the strange feeling that i’m
going to die this year. never though much about
dying, not like this and i can’t explain it.
time to pause dramatically.
i think about this while sitting on the couch
in a black beanie naked save a red towel
listening to billie holiday getting ready
to paint an ant.
and as the living room dozes her voice
drowns out everything.
Comments