there are many reasons a woman can say her final goodbye to you
and somehow they all feel different
He supposed the worst of all had to be when her final goodbye is influenced by another man
made sense
but that wasn't his case Also he was too drunk to think straight now. And in too much pain
“It's the final goodbye,” she had said. “You chose the bottle over me, now live with the bottle. Goodbye.”
Goddammit, this really hurt His dick was only getting harder and more blue stuck in the mouth of the bottle
Yet still, through all the pain and the dizziness he reached for the phone and called her. He said, “Hey, I just want you to know that… It was you I had in mind when I did it. I did it while thinking of you, love.”
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the absolute worst part about
being locked up
in the psych ward was having
no access to guns
No greater torture
for him
He spent his creative hours
in the workshop
drawing chicks with guns
and jerking off to them
“You're pretty good at this,”
said one of the
nurses
He snorted. “I'm hella good at
everything that involves
shooting, babe.”
“Oh sir, I didn't mean... I
meant drawing. You're pretty
good at drawing.”
“Yeah, fuck drawing. I wanna
shoot shit. Say, could I
at least get some gunpowder. I just
wanna snort it. Nothing more,
I swear.”
She gave the usual answer. “I'll
check with the doctor
and see what
can be done.”
and was gone
He wasn't mad enough to believe
her
He was just mad enough to
use the tools in the workshop to
shape a wooden gun handle from
a small log
and staple it to the
base of his penis, to make the whole
thing resemble a pistol
He held the wooden
handle and moved it
up and down while staring at
his drawings
until he shot his load at them
from the violet cloud above
God stretched a
hand and passed down to him
the dagger with
a blade made of frozen shit
“Take this,” said God, “and pose
yourself at the
gates of the school. Offer to
clean the
students under the fingernails
and toenails with it.
Now go.”
He woke up when
the mongrel dog whose tail he grabbed
and squeezed and pulled
started to cry and bark
and turn to bite at his hand
He screamed and backed away from
the poor thing
and watched it run away
He looked at himself
Naked and smeared with soot
and mud and whatnot
He looked around him
The landfill
just outside town
He fell to his knees
Damn, those were some good mushrooms
He stood and walked
back towards the town
Daydreaming as a profession 