6/11/11
I'll write 'til 9, just 13 more minutes (or 14, 2 times 7, a doubled magic numeral, just as 13), and then I'll bang on doors windows cellphones or just howl and crow on the backporch, like that asshole rooster, all sleep-deprived beady eyes and twitching headache.
Why is everything so green?
Pocket stock:
wallet w/ gas money and no more
white handkerchief for snot, sweat, and other secretions
Nokia flip-phone, for use in desperation and/or romance
lipbalm, not vegan
guitar capo, the screwing kind that bruises my fingertips
2 rocks with fossils, stolen from Panther Creek
.73 mm Dunlop nylon guitar pick
63 cents
illegible notes to myself, taken down upon take-out tickets from Bambino's Ital. Cafe
green Sharpie marker, twin-tipped
5 mg Abilify tablet in cigarette cellophane
view stock:
black rag
old man with cane
2 chairs
robin staring at me with adorable curiosity
green
green
green
broken porch swing
white Ford Tempo, 2-door
empty jar, dirty
crushed pack of Camel Filters
dead tree
blue shoes
green
green
green
No comments:
Post a Comment