You Do Right By Me, I'll Show

I Roll Onto My Side And Stare Out The Venetian Blinds At The Blue Sky Beyond. After A Few Minutes I'm Lulled Into A Sort Of Peace. The Sky, The Sky--same As It Always Was.

I Cling To My Anger With Every Ounce Of Humanity Left In My Ruined Body, But It's No Use. It Slips Away, Like A Wave From Shore. I Am Pondering This Sad Fact When I Realize The Blackness Of Sleep Is Circling My Head. It's Been There Awhile, Biding It's Time And Growing Closer With Each Revolution. I Give Up On Rage, Which At This Point Has Become A Formality, And Make A Mental Note To Get Angry Again In The Morning. Then I Let Myself Drift, Because There's Really No Fighting It.

Dear God. Not Only Am I Unemployed And Homeless, But I Also Have A Pregnant Woman, Bereaved Dog, Elephant, And Eleven Horses To Take Care Of.

...poking A Lump Of Red Jello That Jiggles Outrageously, Like A Breast I Once Knew.

I Don't Like Outlining, Because Books Are Organic Things. Sometimes A Book Doesn't Want To Be Written In A Certain Way.