The Orthotics of Banality

by grimbeau

morning sun intense on garden window gets you up sleep blind to stand on one leg, take 
your pills, overdose on vitamin d and reward
yourself with two spoonfuls of laudanum; waiting for Andy and Pritti to mate and watch your toes turn blue. 
Assume the horizontal and the pueumatic
hammering begins, the power tools of sunday morning, the razing of humdrum lawns. 
You fall back asleep clutching your talismanic vape and find yourself in a one horse town 
atop a chiselled desert path, lights shine from the buildings
it is snowing, out to sea moonlight defines the cliffedge in brilliant blues and yellows, a 
concave tube connects the sky and earth. Waiting in the lobby a
voloptuous dark haired woman appears and asks you in. The reflection shows 
dark rings beneath your eyes. There is a room inside being prepped for
a procedure. a large white haired matron approaches you with notes. 
she does not know about the extraordinary pills you take.
 A little fat man barges in imposing his importance
you say he is interrupting, he ignores you, he thrusts his hairy arse is in your face, 
you shout fuck off and wake up. the dog is barking. Did he hear you sceaming?

those lights on the cliff were sublime, the rock pools vibrant, the water spout majestic, 
agony offset in a desert blizzard mild and still, you were not alone, there was a familair silhouette, 
you leapt to the obvious assumptions and were proved right
right about the jab appointment. It is today. She is due at on the dot of five-thirty. 
No chicken dinner. No clean floor. No fresh bed. 
People never show on rainy days. On this globe every day it rains. 
Who was that on the phone? Gives it sound cause for some concern?
Approaching storm clouds dim the light, you turn up the heat before  the great incoming sloosh
'Great Suicide Weather,' said the old man staring into crowded space. May proves itself a foaming seething zone.