Wednesday, August 17, 2011

And we're off

Big week, eh?
Sometimes what you need is just a push.
It stays sweltering in these apartments.
Long after that late summer breeze has peeled the slippers off the Grinch.
My landlord has a 15 year old cat named Charlie.
She says he's dying.
He's all spine and dander.
The porch was built with him in mind.
When I look at him I wish I could scoop out a piece of my brains in his name.
A quarter cup of warm ground up grey matter oozing down my wrist.
I want him to eat my mind out of my hand.
There's so much I'm not using anyway.
If it bought him a day?
Peace on the Pacific.

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