You see, because how am I supposed to focus on love or accomplishments when I have that certain breed of diarrhea that is both spicy and spiteful and nowhere in this God-damned town is there a public restroom?
And to top it off I have what I believe is my first hemorrhoid, which makes each wipe feel like I’m ripping off a band-aid, and leaves the toilet paper a swirling collage of blood and shit.
I don’t know why I think that drinking gin in the middle of the day could possibly be helpful.
At times I am neat, but today I’m on the fucking rocks.
And even as a young man I am constantly plagued with clicking joints, a sore neck and bad teeth.
What is to become of us, body of mine?
If the spirit of a hummingbird were to be suddenly dropped into my skin all of my bones would instantly buckle and break and I would come crashing to the ground in a pathetic heap.
My eyes blinking a hundred and eighty times a second.
November 2007
Nevada City, CA
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