Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Problems got me pessimistic like upside down roses…and not red ones…black ones with gangrene tips and rusting wax dripping into a midnight rippling lake of poison molasses under a hot bleeding moon and I can see diva red wrinkles on the water and my reflection breaking against shards of broken metal on the banks. Flowers rain soft and crumbling petal boats rotting full of holes and they sink into the simple syrup and suspend themselves among other things swallowed…such as pennies of fools who actually believe in wishing wells, globs of drainage, green and yellow and brown and black, from a sinus infected spitting contest, a fingerless glove guilty of 15 hundred and 82 crotch grab-and-pulls in a Michael Jackson dance, a frazzled toothbrush, a broken fingernail, a stolen purse, reading glasses who read too much, pirated cds, bits of serrated ceramic, pubic hair, and a Easter egg that at one time was a 3 year old’s “green cookie” in a make believe game of “Look Mommie! I made you lunch!” And it’s all like a hard jello stew of nagging and tangled fecal matter, impacted bowels. Nothing makes sense anymore, and I haven’t shit in eleven days.
1 comment:
Jeez Sarah.....man. For some reason I was wanting you to end this with a swear word...one that would book-end it with the title....maybe "goddammitt!" would work?
...but yeah....yer pretty good with the gross imagery. good job with that.
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