Reply To: Week 4 Posts – December 12th

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I remember waking from a dream to pee
the heartburn a bonafide bonfire
a brutal reminder
that only hours before
by the light of the refrigerator door
I had gorged on an orgy of carbohydrates

it started with the greek
the skewered souvlaki with squeezed tzatziki
now residing somewhere below my belly button
maybe in what my family called my hollow leg
all that was left of the leftovers
a styrofoam of starch and the scent
of lemon oregano and garlic

I inhaled the cold pilaf and potato
Half chewed becoming like glue
binding my insides like a papier-mâché balloon
I remember wondering:

why do all greek restaurants employ the same font?
why is solitude so difficult to sit with?

I returned from the fridge and crumbled into bed with a bag of chips
it’s hard to argue with the drawl of barbeque
my red 40 dyed fingertips
the crumbs at the bottom of the bag
like sad silver dust from a stack of scratch tickets
it’s the soul that gets sick first
I rolled onto my left side
and made love to the crumbs