NOTE FOUND ON MY OWN PILLOW

 

c 2011 Tristan Winter

 

 

 

You keep a possum named Ernesto preserved in laquer and half of his teeth are gone my god doesn’t that signify anything to you and then you write it down like it’s some kind of intellectual diversion which you must admit is better than a woman planting herself directly before you first winking then yelling. I don’t remember how I ever got involved in this. Outside there are tanks and cops. You missed it, but just now I drew a diagram of why people are unable to digest matters.

 

A window settles down to sleep on my groin, the one they warned me about. My friends come to see me, five guys named Moe.

 

It wasn’t anything you said

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