memories of the sick bed

when i was a child
from 11, say, to 16
i was often sick
pre-puberty
many of the days were spent at home
of course
to avoid school
the ridicule
awkwardness
forced loneliness
of being with people
but completely alone

i watched many movies
even, then, had started reading some books
still, avoiding homework

i spent so many days on the couch
in front of the TV
over and over again with The Never Ending Story or Mannequin
what else did i love then? anything that graced HBO

i would be covered in an afghan my mother had made
perhaps a quilt from my aunt too
sunlight through the windows
dozing in and out of sleep

next to me
would be glasses of water, tea, and gatorade

this is my most restorative pose

last week i was out nearly every night
yet i am such a hermit and such extroversion took its toll on me
(kissing on boys, copious alcohol and smoke, and the dancing…)
today i woke at nearly two (the hour of my birth)
with a head stuffed
washed it out with my urine
and set up my nest of comfort

i have a jar of lemonade (just squeezed, no sweetener)
iphone (device for everything)
book to read
mug of tea (nettles, rooibos, melissa, tulsi, oatstraw, red clover)
glass of water
black chocolate
ginger candy
walnuts and cranberries

my neighbor
a little japanese girl
has been practicing a xylophone
or is it marimba?
or some computer representation of?
she’s been playing it for months
and the first few months were all something odd, a-tonal, foreign to my ear
today, reminding me of my child-hood
unavoidable, indellable
she’s been working on “when you wish upon a star”
… for a month now
but not yet have i been so quiet in my apartment
doing nothing but laying in bed, reading
listening to her working out the phrasings
… for hours

only once have i really got up
and that
to return the trashy vampire novel i borrowed from my downstairs neighbor
as is the custom
he fucked me like mad
first time ever in his bed
first time ever with me underneath him
(he only cums when i’m on top, though he always the penetrator)
on a quilt he bought from walmart
a boy frome tennessee
something homey about it…

he tells me he’s always been fascinated with vampires

so many men want to be drained
life force
life force

i’ve been dilligent to pray on each orgasm i’ve been subject to these
last few weeks
there is a building…

he went into his loder’s room to fetch another book he thought i should read
a russian vampire novel called “NightWatch”
but the two dogs had gone wild with our fucking
and shit all over his lodger’s bed

she came home moments after the book was fetched
the dog knew she was a bad girl

what a world

i’m going back to bed.