UNKEPT

 

 

 

If I disclose any of my party of clowns they will drown me in a pool of ping pong balls.

Somewhere, lodged like a tumor in the back of my mind, was a baseball play-by-play Announcer, and a voice of his time. 

Someplace there was a ruckus, I don’t know where the pummeling came from, but I heard them throughout. And someone was getting pummeled.

 Apparently I clung to life, long enough to hang on. 

Not conscious of breathing…or conscious of reality, It was a ghostly mystery to me, phasing in and out, and with each nod, a new mystery.

The clowns visit me at night and pummel me with pool noodles. A thousand lashes…never more. As a result, I drift into a comma.

The nurses call it “nodding off”...

(Drug-induced…at eternity’s ledge…but we’ll call it  - “dozing” – for billing purposes).  

 But, I'm gonna call it "Noodling off."

 

OH LORD! 

“…if I should die before I wake I pray the Lord knows his mistake.”

 

 

V