Sitting in a Hospital Cafeteria in Anchorage, Alaska
I have no hammock. I see no bronze butterflies. No field of sunlight viewed between a couple of pines, cowbells tinkling in the distance. None of that poetic horse crap for me. Just a table in the cafeteria, a pair of salt and pepper shakers, and a bottle of Tabasco. I ponder presbyopia, but no longer see the point. Nobody calls me on my dumb phone anymore. My handwriting is a mess. Myriad are the ways to waste a life.
