pages of white, late nite tv snow

 one could be excused in their twenties but forties? in excu

sable, in escapable. what is art but a view point of time in space

like a red bic un use able, one walks into the house to retrieve

the blue one from the other jacket. retreats again when cold bites

harder than nicotine. by their sixties it's all just history anyway

preservation mumification. i've been listening to rap alot

something about the way my car and the lights to and from 

the daycare center sync up to deliver me a green experience

from sheldon to anderson. that's 8 traffic lights. i may

be wrong, if you're counting. groove of base

like an ace up an ally, matching flow wtih the diodes

turnin waves into power, making snow

 hour after hour up here on the mic

the words are spinnin thru me like tippytytap 

and it doesn;t really matter if you call it old hat

ol gang ol white girl you ain't all dat

 it's the flow of tampa traffic,it typa gippity gatt

gat gat phat gat gat ga aat gat. 2x

%%%

there is rumbling next door

 the moon is rising again

gibbous, dropping tides of beds

 thrown against  trailer walls.

i would sit here chronically listening

in order to avoid the child i'm fostering

but he's bbeen given his vitamin s 

time must be attended to.

&&&

 we don't have tv snow anymore

to lament is nostalgaic time wasting

to expect relevance is ironic and sad

to expect to remember if there is a word 

for ironically sad is the down slope of algernon's mind

the remembering that you used to know

without thinking about it at all

i never understood the layers of metaphor

the couching of dementia in the folds of the book

only now after years of lead poisoning and other abuses

+ twelve years of pain have rendered me stupid.

alas, the perils of living and wishing wells. 

'[

(((((*

that ws a lot of silence.

so any way good  n9te

open mic

 why i didn't go last nite

when i got home from work, i'd left early

because my rhoids were raging, i ran

to the toilet and let go. when i got up

there was blood everywhere, beads of blood

over the toilet seat, down the side of the cupboard

dripping on the floor from my ass. ii mean i'm a woman,

i'm used to blood flow from nether regions but damn i 

had my uterus removed  10 years ago so this

should not be a thing. 

my honey went to eye doc because he has floaters

a natural consequence of age he was told but they

made a followup and just before the visit he was 

complaining of his latest floater , huge , and how 

it bothered him so much but then it just went away and the docs

who could usually see the things couldn't find it so

they decided he needs to see an optic nerve specialist

and walked out to the nurses station to schedule it

as soon as possible.. the. doctor. made sure it was

scheduled. as soon as possible.

when i went to the gastro doc for an overdue 

colonoscopy the doc clearly saw and recorded 

the  outer and inner rhoids i have, and labeled them

acute. 

on the followup they ask how i'm doing and i say

it feels like there is an iron poker up my ass about

75% if the time. when can i get surgery, this is a 10 pain.

we don't do that, they tell me. can i get a referral? hadda ask

three times. finally they tell me, ok, someone will call you

and schedule a visit. two weeks later, on my day off, i call

them. get an appointment for the last working day of this year. 

two months out.  

my honey is male. i am female. we go to the same medical group.

connect those dots.