bleed

THEN

on fathers day in 1999…

the bastard was galloping on horseback through forest park…

into a turn…

lost a stirrup…

and did a face plant into a tree.

the bastard shattered his nose into eleven pieces.

I got up and kicked the tree until the nice lady found me put me on the back of an animal and trotted me back to the barn while I deliriously warbled "Christian sands" by tricky.

or…

…a devil in Helsinki

NOW

I work in a cube in a high traffic area.

it's private enough.

but if you're looking for me, you'll find my ass.

and everytime I low my nose the wrong way…

I bleed like a stuck pig.

and then I have to make my way to a stall and stop the bleeding…

hiding out like some fucking coke head in the 1980's…

until the bleeding stops.

I'm kind of sick of it these days.

but it could be worse.

all those pieces could still be rattling around in there instead of being fused together in some shitty jigsaw way.

so glad I wore a helmet that day.

—the bastard