Hypnotic Glitch

It was either a Wednesday or Saturday
morning, I knew that much, as I sat down
on the front porch sipping my first cup of
java...the sultry summer's wind and her
fluid gentle touch...

said I was going to be alright. The night
sweats had already bath my body two
times in a row. Anchored deep in my
sub-conscience were reinforcements,
I still had two more weeks to go...

back to the den of mysticism where all
your thoughts seem real; where one must
pass the lemon and ice tests to "see" how
he feels and to draw out old memories that
have been locked away and sealed.

it must be Saturday!... "trash day". I can
hear the truck approaching from down the
road and by the smell of my own garbage,
which has begun to wreak, I would wager
my bottom dollar it's the end of the week.

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