Monday monday, pinched nerve and a hard on

by jhon baker

awoke with an inability to move my neck and a completely engorged member. This made it difficult to remove myself from the comfort of a king, stationary under a threadbare blanket.

I’ve three letters to write and have been ignoring my friends somewhat. Not intentional but a movement in a symphonic life teeming with incredulous memory.

coffee is unprepared but waiting.

I am growing more concerned about the influence of people who view me as an enemy. Don’t they know I love them, don’t they know I sit concerned at midnight about their health.

unfinished
one hand moves swiftly against the other,
(a final act of
expression.
a final act of
rebellion.)
wisping eagerly
against the fiddling wind
life dropping,
weighted,
still
on tiled, unclean
bathroom floors.
 – Hoc Scripsi
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