yours in ghost

Subtle in my eyes I am open with these blinders
I find time to be a waste of fine minds
Fine wines drippin’ from the casks in this match lit
Labyrinth of commissary skulls and entrapments
Last rent due on the dotted line the first day
Your word or money doesn’t matter if the thirst pays
Worst case scenario no first name basis
Purse came a penny low your terse vain, facelift
Maybe it’s Gabe with a place for the ancients
Maybe it’s “Hey, spare change for a vagrant”
Nameless the wanderer, stains from a common war
Contained in the frame of a rage stricken carnivore
Stage fright glazed lights halos ‘round halogen
lamp bulbs pulse earth bends ‘round the callow dents
Drop a ton of matches save em‘ all for a shallow tent
Inspired by the campfire lyres in your fallow sense

…A penny for a sequel?
Rent from the bent pulse that sulks in the people
Finger tricks that lingered stick, the church and the steeple
Soft and herd mentality whichever way the sheep feel
Moth to the flame at a loss to the shame
Bossed by a balk for “your loss is my gain”
Often the moss gets the rocks where it pains
cuz when all’s said and nauseous the water still rains
Faucets and drains common causes of losses
When all’s said regardless of done, moving targets
are spun from the harnesses, ropes and the drawstrings
Rusted and dusty, oxidized and tarnished
In halls where the varnish is varmint, the venomous
Regard sins with garnish, till all whims are pendulous
In halls sit the mall kids with all this and then it sinks
in
It’s all chinks in armor that won’t defend

Last Thursday, an attempt at taking “one last shot” ricocheted off the rim and pounded into my head. Who ever thought a basketball could hurt so much? Well, my glasses fell off and I spent the next hour or so in a daze, until I was driven to an urgent care. There, I was told that it probably wasn’t a concussion, but that I shouldn’t fall asleep until night-time and that Sara should stay with me until then. To keep me awake. Yikes. 

Well, Sara did just that and I woke up on Friday, but not before my glasses broke on Thursday night (something I didn’t attribute to my injury until the weekend). Monday rolls around and I’m feeling good. Doc had mentioned that any intense symptom of a headache should be treated seriously - read: a trip to the ER for a CT scan. And sure enough, after a weekend of exhaustion, I became suddenly dizzy. The room struggled to catch up to me while some tiny invaders plead ping-pong inside my head. 

“Hah, hey, can one of you push the button (to call the office), this is not good.” 

The kids freaked out. The ambulance came. My body was rigged to all those monitors and batteries and such. I was CT scanned. I waited. And waited. With Sara. And then was told that I have post-concussive syndrome, meaning I can expect headaches for the next few weeks. Good times.

So that’s what happened to mi cabesa. And now my heart has a bit of a contusion thanks to your friendly neighborhood standardized tests. Haha. That’s oddly appropriate. The Spiderman thing. But more on that later. 

Oh, and one last thing:

Dear May,

Get lost.