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anthony-brautiganPoems
[February the twenty-seventh] My hair is unwashed and here is blood in my spit. There is *** on my shirt, requires care to notice. I have a headache and took two chewable aspirin. *My hand on my **** Five, say, ten ******* salute! Ready, Aim, Shoot!* I played with a toothpick, pushed into my gums whenever the professor looked quizzical. I pick my nose whenever I'm sitting, smeared where -I can, -it sticks. I can feel bits of mud, gravel on scalp between hairs. Been digging, you see. Sand in the bed, too. Gets in on the feet. Feels like ants. I walk in from the site. I feel armless, a little regretful I started writing this. -Took vitamins -Did reading -Call parents -Get sleep When Carter woke up I hadn't even closed my eyes yet, had'm locked dead on the grain woman on my screen, hand beneath the blanket--But oh, how the sun came in. Carter couldn't move at all. He was sitting on that one. There. I knew I was going to die that day, sometime, did when I opened the shade and Rachmaninoff's op. 14, №6 You Are Loved By All played. I didn't, now, but I might have a kidney stone.
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Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 10:46 PM UTC
There Was Blood in My **** and I Want You to Be Concerned
[February the twenty-seventh] My hair is unwashed and here is blood in my spit. There is *** on my shirt, requires care to notice. I have a headache and took two chewable aspirin. *My hand on my **** Five, say, ten ******* salute! Ready, Aim, Shoot!* I played with a toothpick, pushed into my gums whenever the professor looked quizzical. I pick my nose whenever I'm sitting, smeared where -I can, -it sticks. I can feel bits of mud, gravel on scalp between hairs. Been digging, you see. Sand in the bed, too. Gets in on the feet. Feels like ants. I walk in from the site. I feel armless, a little regretful I started writing this. -Took vitamins -Did reading -Call parents -Get sleep When Carter woke up I hadn't even closed my eyes yet, had'm locked dead on the grain woman on my screen, hand beneath the blanket--But oh, how the sun came in. Carter couldn't move at all. He was sitting on that one. There. I knew I was going to die that day, sometime, did when I opened the shade and Rachmaninoff's op. 14, №6 You Are Loved By All played. I didn't, now, but I might have a kidney stone.
anthony-brautigan
Written by
anthony-brautigan
28/M/American
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 10:46 PM UTC
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