This font with cigarette burns comes with a mystery train.
Smudges travel diagonally: I should have quit while four drinks ahead and still half-dressed.
Now: my grandmother's handwriting on a neurotic iguana.
The recently dead sends their regards:
_Your spelling habits are the better part of your life.
Everyone knows you call the ghost-writing service.
Everyone knows you keep asking for Lucille._
I wasn't suppose to notice errors until the 12th.
The fertility clinic north of the asterisk is closed on Wednesdays.
Multi-colored fish aggregate around the irritated colon.
A correction pen covers all my tracks: 49 days of popular girls shitting America.  |
