Options are one thing that never goes out of style, (along with survival). I've impregnated the rose -bushes in my own hidden area, (due to an unhealthy obssession with the thorn in my side). Or perhaps I have a chocalate chip on my shoulder,( sprinkled with cherry syrup and Jimmie Hats.), my purpose and intentions in this world are not to be offensive, morbid, obtuse or unkind. I would like you to know me as a gentle soothing wave that crashes charismatically onto the beach introducing the elderly to poisonous Jelly-Fish. I have drank piss in the futlity of a southwestern desert searching for a life-line to prevent my kidneys from shutting down. I've made love in the morning after many a margarita rimmed with too much salt, ( and in short I was afraid and still am), I've pissed into the dry thirsty toilets on these same mornings the way I have drank piss to keep my kidneys from shutting down.
In the face of self-deception not much can be done. (except slapping yourself in the face). Whenever something was mine I never cared for it considerably. But god forbid If someone would attempt to take that thing or person from me, (In the days of hands). Moving into the final weeks of mail-in unemployment checks, I presently live a simple life for complicated poultry ( a fancy term for domesticated roosters). In this current era I have just mentioned, one is partial to middle- aged women who indulge in too much make- up and valium. I compare myself to a used retro coffee- table. I'm presentably fancy , but not neccessarily guaranteed to hold your drinks without spilling them.
Unlike the Days of hands, the last weeks of the days of mail-in unemployment checks allow me to view the sun-rise from ancient eyes. With a mouth that hangs loose due to a long history of drooling and gym-socks.
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