I apologize if the rants over the last two weeks are just too long and rambling to bear. Since hitting my stride with poetry in the last year, I've almost forgotten how to write long sentences with no line breaks that look right when I read them. So this is an exercise, and you're here to witness it. Well, it's a more bearable sight than seeing me exercise with crunches and push ups in the morning. I'm sure you'll trust me on that one.
Tired, so I'm just going to head home. Long day, having dealt with a colonoscopy without anesthesia twenty four hours ago.
Yeah, I got a lot of looks when I said I was doing that. And that was from the medical staff. You know that kind of look you'd get if you tell someone you were planning to parachute from a plane without a helmet, goggles, or parachute, leaving no health insurance for your family of ten....and you're against the war in Iraq. Yeah, that kind of "Are you a lunatic?" look. You know.
Won't go into details much except that even though I feel a little pain now, I wouldn't have been able to write anything for the whole weekend if I had taken anesthetia. Either that, or I'd be even less coherent than I am now. Something to think about, all you poets who are getting on in years and might not have as many contacts who can drive you home.
Ironically enough, when I decided on no drugs, I had two people offer to take me home if I decided otherwise at the last minute. Last time? No one. Had to phone a co-worker and pay cabfare. Still, for each person I turned down, I was reminded about that joke about God and the guy in the flood. You know, the one that ends with God saying "I sent you two boats and a helicopter!"
But no worries. Except next time when, I'm nervous, I have to cut jokes like, "Nurse? if that needle is going to be anywhere the same length as the knive that Lawrence Olivier wielded in Hamlet, let me know so I can turn away."
I know. Who am I, Dennis Miller? Shut up!
Oh, yeah, and the Iraq joke above? It's better than getting me started on how apeshit I am about this!
Tired, so I'm just going to head home. Long day, having dealt with a colonoscopy without anesthesia twenty four hours ago.
Yeah, I got a lot of looks when I said I was doing that. And that was from the medical staff. You know that kind of look you'd get if you tell someone you were planning to parachute from a plane without a helmet, goggles, or parachute, leaving no health insurance for your family of ten....and you're against the war in Iraq. Yeah, that kind of "Are you a lunatic?" look. You know.
Won't go into details much except that even though I feel a little pain now, I wouldn't have been able to write anything for the whole weekend if I had taken anesthetia. Either that, or I'd be even less coherent than I am now. Something to think about, all you poets who are getting on in years and might not have as many contacts who can drive you home.
Ironically enough, when I decided on no drugs, I had two people offer to take me home if I decided otherwise at the last minute. Last time? No one. Had to phone a co-worker and pay cabfare. Still, for each person I turned down, I was reminded about that joke about God and the guy in the flood. You know, the one that ends with God saying "I sent you two boats and a helicopter!"
But no worries. Except next time when, I'm nervous, I have to cut jokes like, "Nurse? if that needle is going to be anywhere the same length as the knive that Lawrence Olivier wielded in Hamlet, let me know so I can turn away."
I know. Who am I, Dennis Miller? Shut up!
Oh, yeah, and the Iraq joke above? It's better than getting me started on how apeshit I am about this!
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