Wednesday, April 22, 2009

aint pretty at all

i'm so broke as a joke, last night i laid in bed thinking that if I could get to the grocery store today before they ran out of'em, i could pick me up one of those roasted chickens they sell for like six bucks - i already had rice and i could pick up a clump of broccoli - pull off half the white meat mix it all together and there I go - meals for two suppers. I was thinking bout food cause I was still kind of hungry - i'd bought me a quart of goats milk and a banana - i had that with some uncooked oatmeal - being poor and not stupid makes you creative - i drink water for my meals that i cut with a little grape juice. i dont care what it all sounds like - i'm alone so who cares? Sometimes i eat my meal while playing solitaire - when i'm done eating i watch pictures on tv and play 45's to see what i wanna play on my radio show on Friday - I also go through the pile of magazines i've amassed for the week - i go to the U City library - they've got stacks of'em that people leave there just to get rid of - i go there on Sunday afternoons and see what they've got - i like the New Yorker and The Smithsonian, i take whatever's got the best pictures - i go through them at home lying in bed with the tv on - i rip out the pictures that speak to my inner condition and paste'em in blank sketch books - it's like my diary - Sometimes I just get overwhelmed by the aching inside me - i fall asleep with it and wake up in sadness or mild panic (depending on the day)

"Good morning Blues, come on into my room!"

I think maybe I'm allergic to something with my bed clothes or from the peeling paint on the wall behind my head in bed or the old permanent indoor/out door carpeting that's been in this room forever - my place aint really so bad - rent's really cheap but my landlord lives in the same building and his wife just lost her job. sometimes i walk past his back door when I'm emptying the trash late at night and I can see him walking back and forth across his kitchen chain smoking and looking down at the floor. While i'm out in the alley dumping my trash. i hope the screen door stays shut cause i've heard possums scraping at it some summer nights while i'm inside - i hope one of those things dont get in my kitchen, i think that'd bout finish me off, I really do - you ever run over one of those icky ass things in your car?? It aint pretty, ain pretty at all!

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