LIVING LIKE A CRIPPLE
Today I wake up in pain,
thinking there is not much to gain.
Fever, fever, fever,
it´s worst than hearing Justin Beaver.
My stomach is swirling around,
and this doesn´t make me too fond.
I don´t want to go,
but the family tells me that is what I have to do
so there is nothing I can do.
First phone talk with the medic and he tells me that there is probably some stomach infection,
I´m not looking for perfection in my recovery to a new incarnation.
So fuck am I tired and sometimes I want to retire,
But not again to the hospital…
There is no option, that is the nature of having pancreatitis,
I don´t want to go back, I just want to see some tittis.
So screw me again,
although if there is no pain there is no gain.
I´m off in an hour, in a bitter hour I´ll be re-entering the white structure
which is far away from a piece of sculpture, hospital the call it?
Fuck it. Don´t want to watch it.
Waste of time since I wont be able to blog or read others,
which is something that gives me the angers. Angers? what fucking poem.
Off I go to the hospital, like an rare animal, to be studied. Hope there is no infection,
or I´ll probably get pissed off and knock the shit of some doctors perfection.