My Heart Leaked Blood
Wed 9-12 1995
I drove out to Evan's in Culver City to get a bag of the expensive green weed. Listened to the Dodger game on the way, sun obscured in the fog. At Evan's I jammed a good size nugget in the bowl, made short work of it, and immediately did another. Watched another half inning, bullshitted some baseball, and then remembered my car was parked illegally, so I abruptly skedaddled. Stuck stoned in the rush hour, I tripped hard, my tolerance to da kind down from a month of Montebello brown. I felt the lining of my aorta tear, my heart leaked blood, and panic-stricken, I massaged the left side of my chest, tapped at it to keep my heart going, and I prayed aloud to God to save my soul and bless my flesh, and a most natural song burst from my fear. I sang the song begging for my blessing in an operatic baritone. It amazed me; it seemed to be happening without any direction from me. My eyes were dry and bloody-red. I opened the glovebox and searched for the soulution (Visine), it ran through my fingertips. In the half light of sundown the little vial eluded me like a mouse in a cupboard. A red and blue light flashed in the mirror; I'd been swerving around with my attention in the glovebox, approaching a construction area where three lanes narrowed to one. There was a cop behind me. I was a goner. My eyes were a dead give away. In a few moments I would be yanked, and my freedom would be forceably removed. I steadied the wheel. Maybe if I drove well for a few minutes he would change his mind. I slowed to a stop at a yellow light. The police car pulled along side me and was a green sedan. No police car except in my paranoia. Sheez. I watched the last forty minutes of "From Here to Eternity" when I got home. Dud diddy duh duh pa doop poop ska diddly pop.
I drove out to Evan's in Culver City to get a bag of the expensive green weed. Listened to the Dodger game on the way, sun obscured in the fog. At Evan's I jammed a good size nugget in the bowl, made short work of it, and immediately did another. Watched another half inning, bullshitted some baseball, and then remembered my car was parked illegally, so I abruptly skedaddled. Stuck stoned in the rush hour, I tripped hard, my tolerance to da kind down from a month of Montebello brown. I felt the lining of my aorta tear, my heart leaked blood, and panic-stricken, I massaged the left side of my chest, tapped at it to keep my heart going, and I prayed aloud to God to save my soul and bless my flesh, and a most natural song burst from my fear. I sang the song begging for my blessing in an operatic baritone. It amazed me; it seemed to be happening without any direction from me. My eyes were dry and bloody-red. I opened the glovebox and searched for the soulution (Visine), it ran through my fingertips. In the half light of sundown the little vial eluded me like a mouse in a cupboard. A red and blue light flashed in the mirror; I'd been swerving around with my attention in the glovebox, approaching a construction area where three lanes narrowed to one. There was a cop behind me. I was a goner. My eyes were a dead give away. In a few moments I would be yanked, and my freedom would be forceably removed. I steadied the wheel. Maybe if I drove well for a few minutes he would change his mind. I slowed to a stop at a yellow light. The police car pulled along side me and was a green sedan. No police car except in my paranoia. Sheez. I watched the last forty minutes of "From Here to Eternity" when I got home. Dud diddy duh duh pa doop poop ska diddly pop.
posted by johnz at 8:48 AM
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