Saturday, September 18, 2010

Poem: Vicodin Stars

A free verse poem written under the influence of pain meds and inspired by my recent ER visit. Fair warning, if you don't want to read about my more exotic piercings, then don't read the poem.

Vicodin Stars

Soft Jazz
computer error beep
the bed must be flat
they don't understand
her pain sounds like an orgasm
her movements collapse
quit showing off
suffer more gracefully
sounds like voice box
cancer reminders
of smoking
CT whirring, spinning
look away
pretty Asian doctor
I feel like a tourist
the piercing talk again
I can't remember
what my clit looked like
without the jewelry
why wouldn't people want
their genitals pierced?
for their three-minute sex
my faded pink hair
If only I had Jeffree Star
Beauty Killer lullaby
nausea over pink basin
wishing I had done my
makeup before this

This song was stuck in my head while I was hanging out feeling like I might pass out in the ER, and besides being sick, all I could think about was how faded my hair was. Odd fixations. I'm remedying my pink hair inadequacies now. Hopefully I can post some more writing or art-related items tomorrow, but we'll see how the medication is treating me. Enjoy.

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