what does it mean when you eat twenty cookies after gulping down Mountain Dew

and sushi in the span of fifteen minutes and your stomach begins to feel queasy, in fact,

explosive, please excuse me, I think I might be sick,

but don’t blame my diet, it might be the only thing keeping me alive

the automaton of matching two pieces together to create a whole,

defining characteristics known to only a few,

but speculated by many,

as an unknown slut under the cypress

supine

and ready for a good time

subconscious thoughts are so hard to keep inoffensive,

I’ll be minding my business, watching television or attempting to read a book,

and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, without warning, a complete surprise I’d say,

but I get this overwhelming urge to yell out expletives in an empty room

while no one watches or hears or pays attention,

nunca escuchando,

while I become mold on the wall, spreading

Fred Aiken Writing