I am sitting with good posture. My feet bare flat on the grownup.
I notice a blister or a boil developing on my ass, a distraction.
Sit up and the food will go down, swallowing is observed
Tools for eating will not catch a fish but can turn it to mush.

I am seriously depressed, but only for part of the day. Hilariously depressed
would look like nobody I know. Robin Williams. Do suicides count. Most to
remember is being saved by Michelle calling 911 in time before I aspiratemy supper. Still no psychiatrist. What do I have to do to be a patient with you.

The ceiling is white even when you hear the stretcher bed pound along
under me there is no sound I can imagine Dylan singing “There must be
some way out of here.” All joker, me all teeth. I’m sucking my breath
the vacuum cleaner broke the canary’s neck, now I shit every time I cough.

I’m told to cover my mouth. Turns out I was I am dying on that turn
but the worst that can happen is I can make somebody else sick
behaving, being good for the doctor is as important as it ever was
do not present your dark side, dude, sit on the sunny side of life.



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