Monday, March 21, 2005
Penny Ante
I may need a doctor. My brain is loose in the pan and slides back and forth when I stand or sit. Each time it thumps to a wet stop against my skull wall. I hear a smacking sound like saltwater against the face of a cliff. Dull reverberations travel down my spine.
My nose bled in the shower this morning. I let it drip and splash for a few seconds. I watched the swirling puddles as they diluted. Steaming jets pelted my palms and rinsed the blood onto the curtain. I licked my upper lip. I walked outdoors into dry cold. My red nostril froze shut. I tried to breathe through my right. It quickly clogged with yellow. I became a mouthbreather. I felt primitive and stupid. I was late for work. My face is hanging from my skull, poorly cured leather hastily stapled to bone by a harried cobbler. I wish to sleep for a day. No smiling until then. 8:31 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
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