Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Thursday, May 11, 2006

‘im all bear-assed,
‘im all splotched up on his pink tush,
‘im all junked up and crying.

worn collared shirt, unbuttoned, reveals a gross, red sore, large in the middle of his chest. he often refers to himself as a hard luck fucker. the grace in this world would not be mine, he stammers. he does not quite understand what the word godforsaked actually means, but he likes to use it. he likes the sound and implication of it. he is known to forsook things. i forsook that son of a bitchin carl; or, i forsook bruce and his place; or, my family done forsook me long ago. his old eyeglasses will always be crooked upon his face due to the twin habits of running into walls and coming suddenly to rest, face first, against ungiving surfaces, and then sleeping that way, unmoving, for hours, the frame of his glasses mashed into his pink face.