a heart in my hole

i wake up. i wake up for the second time today and i'm late but it doesn't matter and i don't care. the sun sends it's most powerful and well-trained rays screaming through space, the atmosphere, my window to deliver a hot and blinding reverse spin kick directly to my jaw, knocking me off my drool-stained pillow and i welcome it.

in the shower i transform the tiniest piece of soap into huge, undulating blankets of lather, because this is my Special Ability, and i'm listening to Triumph because that's the kind of day i'm going to have.

i spit on pigeons from my balcony in-between heaping spoonfulls of my second bowl of Awesome Flakes, surveying my little slice of urbania, my Bastion of Ignorance.

then i part the elevator doors, like Moses halving a salty ham with only his mind, and i run headfirst into the rabble, weaving through the crowds because i know exactly where i'm going and they're not important to my plan. duck and turn. jump the curb. power roll to safety. it's exhausting but it doesn't matter because there's a line up for coffee and that's A-OK because it's always worth the wait because coffee is sexy and real and i'll drink it until my insides hurt because a train ain't gonna move without coal.

and on the streets i have to constantly remind myself to slow down because my velocity today is incredible and i don't want to knock anyone over and i can't believe she just cut me off. but i forgive her because she's obviously the reason astronauts created blue jeans, and i've decided, just this second, as a tribute to her, that i'm never going to work again, because she would have wanted it that way maybe. and her name is probably Raquel and she probably loves orange candles and writes experimental poetry about a lady detective with a lazy eye because that's symbolic to her somehow. she will get home and never forgive herself for not turning around, falling into my arms and purring like a kitten.

and as i walk past the junior high school and see the kids running and laughing i almost envy their youth and freedom and millions of chioces, until one of them tries to sell me a "slightly used" cellphone and i laugh because in my day kids only sold hash and Nirvana bootlegs and that was enough because we Owned the World and we Changed Everything and we tried to Burn it All Down before they could take it but we were too late, which doesn't really matter because we've still got that feeling and we can deny everything and who the hell are you.

my coffee is cold now but i know it still has the power to fill me with a million exploding stars, sending me right over the edge, which is exactly where i want to be, because two feet on the ground is one too many.