Monday, March 04, 2013


Bony kneed,
pants puddled around ankles,
and sitting astride my porcelain thrown

- the coffee maker's
rythmic woof and chuff
tinny bird's warbling
the street below -

I thought:

What the f*ck?

Does the coffee maker always make that sound?

But then it stopped and I could hear the birds, muffled, through the closed windows.

So I'm not losing my mind.

In that way, anyway.

No comments:

Post a Comment