I’m sick again and waking up with headaches and coughing and coughing and cOUghing with a brain full of fuzz. The radio frequency has gone dead or I’m just off the map at the moment. Hiking around in the middle of nowhere some cornfield in Illinois or the eastern-plains part of Montana. When people think of Montana, they always picture the Western part, the rockies part. Eastern Montana with its high plains, gold hills, high-rise silos – that’s the part where the ghosts go and get lost.
My cough medicine is from target and I should have been suspicious when it was green in the bottle, but I wasn’t thinking (obviously) and it’sohgodtheworstflavorevermadeontheplanet – it’s black licorice flavor and now I can’t take my medicine because it makes me want to puke. But I do anyway and take shot after shot of water to chase it down.
I have no idea where I’m going with this. No point really. Other than I got up to write this morning, was too tired and sick, went back to bed, got up again to write and then got totally distracted by the powers of the Online. So here’s my poor excuse of morning writing. My poems will have to wait. Perhaps if they leave out milk and cookies I will return to them.
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