Monday, May 18, 2009

may 18th, 2009 pt. 2

an older poem...


The words are coming slower now, I hope that means I'm falling asleep.  
I'll make scrambled eggs and bacon and toast tomorrow she says.  Sounds delicious I say.  And it does.  My stomach can only handle so many things before noon but eggs, bacon, and toast are three of them.  That and a cup of orange juice and I am unstoppable.  School and loneliness and exhaustion and pessimism and a heavy feeling as if you're falling will creep up and knock you just under the back of your knee... unless you start off with bacon and eggs and orange juice of course.  Toast and jam too.

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