Continuing a series of weird rants I scrawled on scraps of receipt paper while doing restaurant work. It's a product of my bipolar manic episodes.
Links for entries:
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2 -
3
"A cubit's length of receipt in black pen"
From some darker space I write to
you. I am filthy, the unclean made
flesh. I feel the dirt under my skin, the
myriad fauna crawling among the villi
writhing, scheming to eat and f**k and
SPREAD. Righteous living bile. At
my command, in random tandem they
fly at the food I eat and excrete
ENERGY. Unbidden, they nestle
and squirm like so many naked
baby bunnies, seeking a suckle. It
is gross, like 144, a mass of
baker's dozens in groups unholy
and cheap. It's a strict agreement
where all win. It's a stomach
settling and a slight break in the
fever, that heat that builds behind
your ears and cheeks and runs in
lengths of chills that never
truly end. Until you bolt.
--------------------------------------
Now my back aches in a new spot,
just left of a lower vertebrae and
I'm deathly lonely in this gaping social
thrall. And then the twinge. A terrible
tickle spasm that travels fast
and holds my nerves like balloon
strings. Smiling and floating, he
rides about the clouds in my
blood and twangs my tendons.
And giggles. It's the laughter that
summors the vast unhurt, the
glowing virgin in the crook of my
pancreas.
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And as I slather this dining room
writ in the corner by the coffee
and all these black napkins sealed
in plastic, I come to terms with
my life as in death, spackled in
warm light as my brain decays and
my muscles contract and toenails
grow gnarled. I am unfed, mouth
agape and wailing, sputtered
syllables and spittled consonants
and the op op OPenning
of ghastly vowels I cry
for something freshly picked.
I cry for the snake to ease out
of his burrow at the base of the
tree. Some dark seeds in a fleshy
pit with a skin addled and
bark-like. The juice in the
shell seeping and layered with
thick porous veins lapping up
know-how. That is my home,
my lineage, my birthright. I am
descended from monoliths.
(on back)
"Dessert breaks my
heart!"
Today's Haiku
Glass jars from past foods
Our cabinets, overflowing
getting out of hand
Today's Workout
Running: 3.1 miles
DAREBEE:
Day 42 from 90 Days of Action
Today's Drawing
(Based on the word Lenitive from Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day)
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