I am entranced by the shadow cast from the tattered quill of my pen as it dances beneath the low candle light
The sun has yet to rise and I don’t know why I am up already.
Somewhere, the remains of a robin’s egg that was eaten by a blue jay is never thought of once by any sentient being.
There’s a book on the coffee table on acting that features Tennessee Williams whom I’ ve never read, but am pretty sure that I’ve said I have read him before to someone…Pretty damn sure.
Next to the book there’s this blackened mannequin head that holds a matted brown wig that I should have retired in April.
There’s this copperish looking mold that is growing in the bottom of a half pint mason jar that I left under the kitchen sink. The jar stinks like an exotic French cheese and glistens with vermiculite that sort of looks like the fool’s gold grandpa and I found in the shallow parts of a manmade river just outside of Sacramento.
Damn those little black clips that you use to keep potato chips fresh!
I stepped on one with the foot that’s been giving me problems and I looked foolish - like a religious zealot, walking across hot coals to prove to natives that the Christian God is better.
Today, I put jasmine rice in an empty can of Café Bustelo to use as an ashtray, even though I’ve been out of cigarettes since Sunday. After that, I bought some dollar-store foundation that is made for black women and then an old friend gave me a carpet that you can’t vacuum.
I’m wearing a blouse the size and color of a dinner napkin that you’d see in an old Italian restaurant just off the Las Vegas main drag - you know, the ones with the empty bottles of Chianti hanging from the ceiling and the pictures of people who were important when they weren’t dead.
I’ve spent some time naming the children I will never have and picking out their star signs – Birth order. Etc.
I finally chose a less than ideal HMO but forgot to mail the paperwork to the state before the deadline.
I lost count of the hours I’ve spent dreading the 20 minutes worth of chores that life obligates me to today, and have resolved to put it off until tomorrow. Nothing stinks yet.
I guess all nightmares are dreams but not the other way around.
Tomilirt808
NO ES UN POEMA PERO ES SIMPLE Y TAMBIEN MUY TURBIO
(SIMPLE MENTE ES UNICO)