there’s a splinter in my skin but i think i’ll let it sit. and today i found a tick but i guess i’ll let it dig. they say “never have regrets” but the tattoo on my leg looks infected. now my face is turning blue, i’ve been coughing up my food. by tonight i’ll have removed another grownup tooth. ”and you look like someone else, let me nurse you back to health.” i don’t feel so well from these beat writers and all nighters by lamp light or by camp fire. seek new diners by state line or my type writer “i can’t find her.” i won’t smile or confide “i’d be all writer if i was a lit minor.” but tonight my drive buys her a third eye on her right thigh.