6.55 am
6.55 am
by s.e.e.
Pepsi and coughing. Coffee and smoking. Music and dawn. Coughing and glitter. Glitter and purple toes. Snow and commuters. An old, puppy-eaten slipper, and a watch with one band missing. An accusatory email to my mother, and a prayer for my ex. The box in which my last painting arrived, and a toaster box, both collapsing atop the recycling heap. The striped shirt that I burned with a cigarette at the neck, and the baby blue blanket on the couch, pocked with similar holes. Empty pepsi cans and the beep of the coffee maker. Music and a grey sky. Still, snow, glitter. More coughing.
hey. what happened to the virgins by cathy boobs? it was a beautiful piece.
I’m guessing some busybody wrote the editor all huffy about the bare-breastedtidtedeness and so like any moderate responsible editor would, Travis showed him the bird.