Friday, June 21, 2013

You Were the Blackest Grape

When I bit into you you broke my skin.
Does that make sense?
I am being taught how to be a real writer now.
Maybe I'll write for The Rag?
I am simultaneously writing a script for you in my mind.

Maybe now that I am depressed I can be a good writer.
Depressed or alone...or too stupid to speak...me not you.
Plus, I swear Jimi Hendrix is playing on my Pandora Sail channel so nothing could be much stranger.
Alright watching Bryan Cranston fall is always something.
And we nod from our separate locations.

You are not the absolute toughest though. I can remember tougher.
A tougher day?
And what else?
Wanna tell me about it?
I almost died at Starbucks.

I would probably have called the paramedics a little earlier.
When it was before I soaked my chair in sweat.
I cannot wait until the 4th of July. Independence Day!
We can all march around in our little red, white, and blue suits.
What could be dumb about that?

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