Symptoms: from Lorazepam and the Valley of Skin
Restlessness, difficulty falling asleep.
A sudden, intense interest in parlor tricks and tidying.
Obsessions: avocados – an intense desire for avocados.
I can eat when I’m dead.
An interest in the trappings of the supernatural,
that is mostly a put on. Not so much the ghosts,
I am too aware of the disorder of the mind.
She bought me a pill-box, once.
He said to me the other day, he said –
“You know what I love about you, Angie?”
“What?”
“You love shoes as much as I do.”
“Actually, I think you love shoes more than me.
I think you love shoes the way I did five years ago.”
Cucumbers? High fever? Low fever?
You give me fever
Frome a girl in karaoke –
Plump, creamy, waited all night to sing,
Voice like a molten coal.
He has bronchitis, I think.
We sit and take notes, make lists.
This was the summer of Sangria and cards, the summer I got a record player and played my old sounds again, the summer I stopped eating, the summer of schizophrenia, engagements, and love.
Love, in fact.
Love, again.
Desire for straightening, for order.
She said, “Buy a thermometer.”
She said, “The font should be Ariel Bold.”
The font should be Helvetica.
The sadness of the discontinued font,
The darkness of the discontinued font.
I can eat when I’m dead.
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