arrived at the universal cafeteria. got some cappuccinos - had our cards punched. and so we sat there and drank our drinks - and thought. and so we drank a couple of espressos - getting shaking - disjointed - poured down more - EXPLOSION - nervebloodcorset takes HELL - FUCK - GODDAMNITALL to - city life we are drowning in the cement ocean - so the lady approached me on teh subway - bruiseplasma train - i have a gun - and so this lady approaches me - i have a gun - yeah that's where we were - Crash? - falling apart on distant shores of climbing the sewer copper, buses baby, nobody drives - stopping at superx drugs orals, all bizarre, disgusting - only two melancholic entries one late -nervous as a bsa director under teh red strawberry explosion of the red rhythmic - the cornflakes in my half 69 eating out of pot lick - nerve blood - jealousy explosion - francisco angelos it wsa all getting shaking - distorted 60s psychedelia - it came quickly fading out and - strawberry explosion of the red rhythmic gun - shot - bang - flashback - explosion of the torn corset - universal cafeteria floor ceiling and everything running away, the explosion, i'm dead center - flying away --- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------- So, I wake up in a hospital, the white and clean smell is all around me. I hear the beeping down the invisible hallway, and the plastic bag hanging beside me making weird motor noises. I feel sweaty. I hear a cart pushed by my door, like a memory. I remember now when I was a kid and swinging on the swings at the city park. The rubber seats suspended by rusty chains that pinched my hands. I felt confused. I figure there is a button here that calls the nurses. Probably right behind my head. Turning my head, I get dizzy ------------------------
----------------------- And I woke up later. I feel so tired. It's hard to think about anything for too long. So there comes the nurse. "Good Morning, Mr.." she says, checking the clipboard at the foot of the bed. "Mr. James. How do you feel?"
"I'm weak." I try to look around, but the sun shining through the blinds in the window hurts my eyes. I hear her opening plastic bag and dropping the clipboard back to the bed. Clack.. And I see her come around, with a needle and a little bottle with a foil cap.
"So, Luke, are you related to Robert James?"
I had trouble thinking up my family tree. "I don't know. I don't think so."
"Well," she says, stabbing the needle into bottle drawing tap tap. "He was a," and she shove the needle and injection into my arm. "boyfriend of mine, when I was in high school. Do you feel good enough to see a visitor?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Well, she'll be in here in a couple of days."
And I waited, watching the walls, keep passing out, and waking up in the same white sanitary room.
