I really shouldn’t be
here because
My ass cheeks hurt
From sitting too long in this
Plastic chair that I should
Never have bought.
She told me so
And I imagine the blood
Clotting in my ass, as
My weight presses down on it
And the cells scream for oxygen
The way I scream for you
And for ice-cream
And my eyes scream
and my eyes cream.
And my eyes scream
and my eyes cream.
But I can’t
I can’t get up
Because I have two and a half more
Chapters of anthropology to study
For a midterm that is
Too close for comfort.
And still here I am
Writing about things that
Make no sense
And too-intimate details
About my personified ass.
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