quick!
tried to jump the fence.
three hours at patient first.
no insurance. no x-ray.
steri-strips.
doctor smelling of camphor and other various antiquities.
--
the way a mother carries her grown child up the steps
i never knew that place was haunted
every time they close someone runs down the steps
reached over and it was a poodle instead
the horror
--
ryan, you should write an ode to my mother since you're reading on her birthday.
her name is pat. she has small teeth.
GO!
--
i have definitely 3 cavities. haven't been to the dentist since 18. never had a problem before. my body is going. when it goes, burn it and divvy it up and everybody do whatever they want, although i specifically request someone pay to have my ashes compressed into a diamond and wear it on their bling bling gold fronts.
Tuesday
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2 comments:
the HORROR!
no
more
fence
straddling.
we still eating thursday?
EATING
YOUR
WOUNDS.
xo
The Well-Balanced Buccaneer
I'll see what I can do.
my mom will be present, tho, as a kind of living ode, should I fail to author one myself.
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