Thinkwonderimaginepicture

I rest my head on the crusty yellow bedcover and think about how many angry mothers have tossed their babies down on it to change their shitty diapers, how many long-legged girls with tattoos on their butts have sat on it, bent over, and painted their toenails, how many big hairy Wall Street guys have grunted and pushed their way inside some girl they gave a big wad of cash to.

I wonder how many people like me, afraid and alone, lacking any sort of control over their own thoughts, have scrunched themselves in the corner of this dirty hotel room, trying desperately to block out the scraping gnawing roaring thoughts. Pushed themselves tight between the nightstand and the squeaky bed. Laid their heads right where my head is laying now.

There’s a dark yellow spot under my cheek, and I imagine all of the dirt that my tears have dissolved, all of the disease they’re carrying back into my body through me eye. I imagine some dude with HIV splooging all over, falling asleep on top of his boyfriend, and forgetting to clean it up. I imagine some chick with blood positive for that baby-killing virus squeezing her palm over her bleeding wrist but some still getting out. My mind is like one of those CSI black light things. I can see it all. You clean up your blood with everything under the sink, and I can still see it in my mind.

I picture my mind being a ferocious lion that all the zookeepers are trying to pull away from the limp body of some kid small enough to fit through the bars. They’re roping him and choking him and using the tazer, but he bucks and rears up and roars a roar so loud even the mom and dad want to run away. I picture my mind something not just out of reach of my fingertips but so fucking far away it looks like just a speck on the smoggy horizon.