Wednesday, October 07, 2015

I need a bidet.

I very much need to shoot some water straight up my anus.
There’s been some scratching going on that toilet paper is only intensifying.
My asshole needs some special attention right about now and I believe a bidet is just what the doctor would prescribe if I had the nerve to go see a proctologist.

The strength of my resolve is waning as my belief in myself finds itself on the ropes.
Some people read my poetry and say it’s hardly poetry at all. To that I have to ask what makes you or anyone a poetry expert and what exactly is poetry anyhow?
I sit here and allow streams of consciousness to flow and sometimes the flow is quite intensified while other times only minute fissures of unrestrained conjecture find themselves hitting the page like droplets of HIV-positive blood.

Somebody help me as I stand at the rail watching a man I’ll probably never meet face to face as he pours himself onto the stage like a midsummer rain.
He’s never drizzling as he battens down the hatches and heads toward the Caribbean or some other exotic locale where he can disappear into a crowd and forget for a little while how important he’s supposed to be.
He sacrificed his anonymity as so many artists do believing they want fame and fortune when all they ever really desired was for someone to listen to their latest song and to smile and say good work. The proof is always in the pudding even when the one selling the pudding turns out to be one more wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I very much need to take a break and wrap my arms around a pinup model like Veronika Lake. I’ll never forget the first time I witnessed her on film. It was only then I understood what was meant by film noir and how we can be left completely breathless by a femme fatale.
I’m not one of those people who needs to have a bucket of popcorn and a soda when watching a film. For me food just distracts from what is happening on the big screen.
My anus is tired of sitting here waiting for the scratching to subside and no amount of itching seems to be doing the trick as I become all too familiar with my rectum and what it means to give oneself a rectal examination.

Charles Cicirella

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