breakfast in the afternoon while dancing to a few a songs
from the radio
and the bugs skitter on saliva that sits on the porch,
she
yells.
''TOO LATE''
door slams and a picture falls from the wall and shatters into 17 pieces
leaving other fragments of wood.
I hear cars screeching outside as oil cascades onto the boardwalk.
an old lady is rubbing her thigh
and flicking her neck from the previous hour's injection.
I have yet to watch that show.
some guy wants my number but he has a fiancé and she thinks I look strange in my green overalls.
van gogh was a kind man.
I have got other errands.
my thumb Is protruding and the index still thumps sometimes
from when I sliced a good portion at work--
never compensated.
still walking on hot rocks
and still recycling newspapers.
still eating from tin cans on the dresser that I got for 3 cents in the
1930's.
have yet to read a book I've liked for some time.
still trying to make sense.
still writing.
still breathing and
pretending i'm a messiah.
still awaiting the crucifixion
'ttotoT
