Been holed up in this hotel room in Portland. Oregon. Medication make my mind go koo koo. Cold med mess.
Chest congestion conjures the question of spaceships flying overhead on my ceiling. They buzz around each other like Blade Runner space vehicles.
There’s a microwave in my room. It wasn’t here yesterday. How did it get here? Did it walk in of its own volition. Am I being watched? Are there tadpoles in my lungs? Why are there fruit bats tapping at my window? Tap tap tappity tap.
Why is the television off but it’s still on? I’m watching a show about me being chased by rabid bats and I’m sweating. Drenched. I am sir drench a lot.
Time to pay the piper. Who is the piper? It seems I’m past due and my account is in arrears. I think I’ll call my priest. Or my accountant. That’d be cool if my priest was also an accountant. He could keep track of my sins. Itemize them.
It’s time to itemize our sins. Look at all the red in my ledger!
Cough syrup on pancakes isn’t as good as it sounds.