Thursday, March 24

At the desk, preregistered, wrong day wrong date wait they'll take you they have you for today down there at down the hall at the desk Hello. Sit down get up dressing room take your purse. Shoes and socks and underwear on everything else off this one ties in the ack and this one goes over it. Sign here not pregnant ask about nursing cover ovaries lie on the table quick picture step outside wait here.

New room stand against the table on its end vertical drink this thick chaulky salty crystals on top like drinking sharp pop rocks tastes like the smell of plastic dolls one big gulp adjust lead cover breathe deep now stop breathing deep breath in table tilts back stop breathing turn to the right breathe stop breathing. On the table now horizontal turn left breathe drink this thinner strawberry flavor still chaulky still thick lying on my side stop breathing take another sip breathe again now stop.

Sit up body heavy chaulky mouth chaulky lips swing legs over find step stool. Dressing room clothes on tights and skirt and shirt and coat. Out to car and go.

1 comment:

Scalljah said...

Much's I'd like to help you out Guy my diminutive glass wearing bloke teaser, I can't at the mo coz I'm banged up on the secure unit of Ward 11. However, hope is at hand. If you can rustle up a snatch squad and have a do at smuggling me past the nurses when showtime explodes down the commies or the church hall, I'm your number one hack, firin' on all the ink cylindrical spikes I can stick in and go to OD heaven on fella. Just drop me a line about the where's 'n when's and make sure you have a stash of unmentionables on standby so I can get in the right frame of mind as befits a man of the press at such an occassion of soundual splendid whatsathingy, where the air is usually thick with the great right through to the giftless of our small market town, punching well above it's weight in the ole musical stakes, it has to be said lah. Doin' it this way Guyfull me ole cocksman at the helm of the next generation, means we can mix up the reviewin'. I'm not sayin' that your stuff's ever stale mate, no way. In my humble opinion your words represent the rocktastic tip top nexus of linguistivally innovative lyrical investigative journalism, which is unafraid to say what it thinks and offers the discerning reader a real insight into your brain, in a clicheless non limp style which is bursting at the brim with the spark 'n fire betraying an eyefull of the forge from where the language of the truly gifted emerges, which leads me to believe my sock cooking mother, that you have been annointed by the lingo god of cool taste in all matters rock.