Ajax called to say that "the rock of depression has lifted".
Then we went to the tobacco stores, bookstores, and diners of his choice; my treat.
I was like, take me to the hot coals, I feel like walking little man.
Bought some Edgar Cayce books because I was feeling particularly intuitive.
One fine day.
Paid some bills and sobbed, not because I didn't have the money, just because.
Rotated my hips a few degrees to the left, oh my god it's so hot, the fans make it hotter, I want to ride a bike down a hallway.
Baked moments in confused breaks from deadlines that still the blood, the man sitting next to me on the 22 asked me if I was OK, the woman on the other side of the counter told me there was no way to duplicate what I just threw out. Go blow dry your hair a little longer why don't you? Don't talk to me. Someday you'll be able to major in stream of consciousness, and then I'll get that Guggenheimed PHD I always knew I'd never have. I'll wear aprons in Rogers Park and teach two days a week, and own a small bookstore, and friend boy will have his studio in the back. And the basement across town can keep brewing all night, and we'll be there early to help bottle. Volumes two through six now available in paper back, get em' while they're hot, can you toast the breakfast sandwiches? Yes, I can, not going to---do it forever---can't. I can survive the rest of my life without central air so long as I don't have to put your equal in your latte for you. I'll rather wipe your ass with my tongue. I'd get off on that. So would you. I'd take you to the theatre after you came all over the sugar free vanilla, something at the Steppenwolf. That's where I got my start you know.
Oh, I lost my head for a second there, that was un-lady like. Excuse me while I finish this embroidery on my maxi pad.
Pebbles in the shoe. Blueberries in the pants. I don't mind if you smoke, my mother smoked.
Catching waves in the middle of nowhere, and jumping to surf with you,
Skin and Toast
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