Saturday

hazy from a head full of hangover and a body lazy from naps I spend the day in a sort of acid high sans the trips but more on the manic. women are singing around me like hungry cherubs, desperate and heavy from unused bows that cut into their backs, that justify bad postures tired demenours non-sequitors bad manners. they sound like honey. I rise from bed sticky the vacuous coat don't stay with me for long down come feet down come gravity washing it from me and I find it fair to refuse the shower.