Just a checkup and i’m feeling 30. i’m 30 minutes early and in a hospital that’s an eternity. So my restless eyes wander and my feet move till i step into the reflection of adulthood and youth. Separated by thin glass i stare with blood shot eyes at all the beautiful newborn babies!! “That was me, i was them, how could i have ever been that helpless?” In response to my question the lights flickered and there i was lying helplessly in the incubator! Mother earth looked at me through the glass, she more restless than i, bags under her eyes she said “that was me, i was them, could i have ever been that helpless?” Then darkness and i disappeared, mother earth was now **** naked helpless in the incubator. Through the glass God spoke with fire in His eyes“I Am”.

I often pondered why we wore our studded boots,
When the mud was impenetrable with morning frost.
The same that misted our breath before our eyes,
that made our ice cube toes and splinted fingers,
that made us unable to tie the laces now lashing at our shins,
that made us dread every kick and made every catch distress.
There was no warm-up for our extremities, only pink S.O.S.
The probable pain of the individual,
With every pass lacking distance and every shot off the mark,
My belief was then what it is today,
that some are just not made for it or any other.
And now when I watch, I wish I never left.
To feel just once the joy of contest,
when the closest I can is...
a drink on Sunday afternoon.

The Giant felt betrayed
He remembered how-
Climbing onto his mighty, cosy lap
The Dwarf would curl up
Like a beefy baby
He'd allow himself to be undressed
The Giant would put him into the tub
Soap him and scrub him
Meanwhile, with gleeful gurgles
And goo goo gaa gaa gaa
The Dwarf would let out **** bubbles
The Giant would dry him and neatly powder
Baby talking all the while

Then, one day,
The Dwarf began to speak like a man
He'd fallen for Orange,
The Unicycle Girl
The Giant saw him mount her
As the caged lion looked on
The balneal visits soon ended

The Giant felt betrayed
(Like a mother at her son's growth, he thought)
He blew his nose into the nose rag

Do you love me
Or do you need me more
Are you gonna support me when I get poor
Are you going to open the door
Are you going to hold my hand  if I fall in the sour
Like the days I used tell you everything is cool
Even when you thought there is no way out
I worked harder to make you find a solution no doubt
I changed your ***** when you are thin and frail
When your words were goo goo gaa gaa
And you were always on my tail
You wake us up at night and we feed you and make sure everything is alright
Will you do the same if I am sick
When a tube is breathing down my neck
Or will you leave me in a hospital to die alone
Or throw me out in a old peoples home
Will you tell me that you love me as much as I love you.
Will you stay by my side and tell me I will be fine although you know I might leave and die.
Son I hope you treat me as I did when you were alive.

Mowing down competition like I a Gatling gun, got des fools on deh run.
Do this **** for fun, and I'm big and I love puns.
Name sadly already taken, oh well My names good and Nonetheless I be grappling these hooks hoping I don't reel in the kraken.  
I be cracking yawl up all night,  so what if we slack off a bit it's ok for we need to relax some nights.
Long days with strong or weak power plays, and days were emotions run a muck and life doesn't conform to our ways.
Rattling the war drums, rebelling because we tired of eating measly crumbs.
Get out the Gatling gun for its open season, time to teach these ***** a lesson.
Realize recognition and watch out for false perception in your cognition.
For eyes can lie so be wary and skeptical and never take bribes.
Real recognize real, if I ever fake myself again I’ll probably take a cyanide pill.
If I ever conform I would probably chug some chloroform.
If I ever cheat on my girl for some other *****, instead of dealing with the aftermath I’d probably drink some bleach. Go on a milk run and try to avoid the Gatling gun.
What the ****, why the ****, who the ****, where the ****, how the ****.
Get out the equalizer and go klick klick bang, the ting go gaa gaa blang.
Hit them wit de gat, swing it like it were a bat.
Floor ya to the mat, be like de earth cause you’ll go flat.
What ya tink aboot dat, mess wit de hammer yawl go splat.
Uh for real, de gun I gotta conceal, so don’t get all hasty man ******* chill. Macaroni, alimony, melancholy kinda funny once ya know de story.
Rain drop stained mop, living in de hood like what up my glip glops.
Going spaced out like I’m in a space ship, took some lcd recently that’s what I call a space trip.
It’s just basic rocket science and don’t mind me if I’m not compliant your highness.
I’m the finest with bars riddled with finesse, it’s like a Gatling gun putting bullets to thee chest.
Hold up shut the **** up, pause while a chug some lean from a big red cup.
Not for the weak minded, got gats for poor sneaky blinded folk cause ya got to keep it 100.
What the fickle popsicle gotta giggle for I’m not just a rickle in time for not just anyone can turn themselves into a pickle. Riggety recked, got out the Gatling gun so best hit the deck.
When I plan to paint this town.
Because I don’t **** with clowns.

Earlier in the week I was pretty sick and Peter was pampering me. One night, as Peter was taking away my tea tray, I took a selfie to send to my mom - as proof of life.
He looked at it from the side, “Ooo, no,” he frowned, “too slutty.” He put his hand out for my phone, “May I help?”
“Can you hear yourself talking?” I asked. My mouth was incredibly dry from the steroid meds. The entire world seemed an unnecessary irritation.
He gently tied my robe, straightened me and my pillows and took a new version. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, a little more crossly than I meant to, “you’re always right.”
“It’s the world we live in. Get used to it,” he muttered.
When I tried to pick up my iPad and go back to work, he gently took it away, “Stop,” he whispered, “It’s 12am, you’re done for the night.”
I groaned, relieved really, then he took a small eucalyptus stick and dabbed it on my temples. “Gaa!” I said, “That’s cold!”
Who knew grown up, Californian men were so into homeopathy? After a moment though, it felt amazing.

The next morning, a cat appeared in our suite! It was a solid gray kitten with deep, brown eyes. At first, we stared at it like it was an alien (where’d that come from?) until Leong came in from the cold and said, “Cat.” Then it was welcomed.
About the time Sunny ID'd it as a British-shorthair, there was a tiny knock on our door and a little girl asked, “Have you seen..,” only to squeak “Cirrus!” when she saw her kitty. I’m telling you now, **** the rules, we would’ve kept that kitten.

bye Google. All Google’s been doing this semester is feeding me into CAPTCHA traps, Argh!
How, in 2023, can Internet searches be getting harder? One of my roommates, Anna, is helping me test alternative search engines.
Anna’s a wiry, freckled, 5’4” farm-girl from Oregon, with wavy, shoulder length, dark-brown beach-hair. In our first semester, Anna was a firecracker tossed into my life. She’d bang on my door at 2am (I didn’t even KNOW this crazy farmgirl) with her problems, klutziness and bad boyfriend stories, but she won me over with her vulpine-braininess, her impertinent straightforward secrets and laughter - all delivered in her exotic, western twang.
“Ok,” Anna suggests, getting way into my personal space to see my screen, “try - headache after ***.”
“Sure, GET me on odd shopping lists,” I snark.
“Black mole on armpit,” she countered or “intimate dryness.”
“Big help!” I laughed.