The gowns are spectacular.
Damn! Everything disappeared here.
I bought a new AT and T phone at Staples. Friendly Dave sold it to me. BUT I didn't realize you've gotta stand by the phone and talk right there at the phone.
No recriminations, Ruthie. I've just gotta get rid of it.
You stupid fool, you stupid fool, you stupid fool.
DO YOU LIKE MEXICAN CUISINE?
My waiter Tej asked me that as I sat down
at a table in the sun. Dust motes traveled
past our tables and I watched out the window
at the Drive-Thru at CVS.
What they'd do is pick up their plastic bags
filled with life-saving meds, then drive up a
few feet and light a cigarette.
Who could I tell? Tej, from Nepal, may have
enjoyed a Virginia Slim, as did my neighbor Charley
after dying of bad breaths, and we discussed
the weather in Katmandu.
For the life o me, I couldn't think of the word Sherpa
and the dangers they faced in the early days of Everest
before it was trendy to go up there.
In my sun-dried car I zoomed to the CVS to pick up
a bottle of generic Synthroid, levothyroxine, parked,
jogged into the store in the very same hat I bought
there weeks ago - an assemblage of feather-like appendages
that look like a topknot in Marlon Brando's Sayonara
and was so damn happy, I went next door to eat at
Mad Mex.
Why Mad? Montezuma's Revenge? That's the smokers
I saw. Mad as insane? We carry all sorts of
meds for that. To name a few, all of which I've taken,
Lithium, Lamictal, Haldol, Risperdal, Klonopin.
The real problem with the food at Mad Mex - and I made
sure there was no cilantro or avocado in the food -
is I can taste the preservatives they use.
Yuck! Ptui! Begone!
Just like my bipolar has gone unless it's
standing atop Everest shaking its booty
with gorgeous red fingernail polish,
taking its good ole time to flake off.
No comments:
Post a Comment