See Ya Later Pookinator
Quickly
I remember his big boney head on my chest as I watched ER in Ashland wondering if I were an unlovable useless piece of unemployable shit. Maybe so, but he slept on my chest.
I remember when he tore open his nose. We were living in a rented room under a house in SW that had no bathing facilities. He came and culed up in my lap and let me look at the gash.
When I lived in the carrola and wept and the idea of being a large man in his mid twenties living a car, he woke me up in the morning to get me going. Shivering, snot covered and looking for work, his bodily needs organized my thoughts and got me through the day. I ate because he needed to.
His wiggly farty but in my bed after comming home from my honeymoon.
The suicide and fear at the beginning of a long walk in the Ashland hills after a four day bender, turning into games and th eexcitement of being let off the leash and a nap while wind hushed the trees.
Lips taught me regularity as a tool for sanity. He loved me after I quit, he slept deeper with me, and I deeper with him. As he died with his funy tounge sticking out I know he only let himself sleep when I told him it wasn’t his fualt and that I loved him.
See ya later pookinator.
I remember his big boney head on my chest as I watched ER in Ashland wondering if I were an unlovable useless piece of unemployable shit. Maybe so, but he slept on my chest.
I remember when he tore open his nose. We were living in a rented room under a house in SW that had no bathing facilities. He came and culed up in my lap and let me look at the gash.
When I lived in the carrola and wept and the idea of being a large man in his mid twenties living a car, he woke me up in the morning to get me going. Shivering, snot covered and looking for work, his bodily needs organized my thoughts and got me through the day. I ate because he needed to.
His wiggly farty but in my bed after comming home from my honeymoon.
The suicide and fear at the beginning of a long walk in the Ashland hills after a four day bender, turning into games and th eexcitement of being let off the leash and a nap while wind hushed the trees.
Lips taught me regularity as a tool for sanity. He loved me after I quit, he slept deeper with me, and I deeper with him. As he died with his funy tounge sticking out I know he only let himself sleep when I told him it wasn’t his fualt and that I loved him.
See ya later pookinator.
Labels: Michael Vick