Eeksy-Peeksy

augury doggerel

Monday, March 04, 2002

Quarantine

She crawls from bed and -- the horror. The crease of cheek sprung from bed too soon, the small spot of drool on the pillow, the despair of futon-mouth disease. While she steams clean the carcass, I make tea as instructed.

I chew toast and sit. I have not changed the cat box. Small squat debt.

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