She gets jealous of the possibility that I could have more daughters, so she cries every time that I masturbate.

There are entire worlds within this landscape, I tell her. Do not be sad. The reality that we see is one of many. I have already mentioned Currentivist mountain, and I may mention it again here now for you. It never fails to bring light to my life, as I sit, spending time in my cell of many mountain peaks. I have closed the door on the world, crumpling it like the rag that it was.

These are Trump era administration tactics. We’re taking the baby to the post office. It’s the worst place that I can think to take her. Much worse than Target, but maybe not so bad as the hospital, the place that she has to go to.  

My enemies gloat, thinking that they’ve got me now. Their numbers are rising, but that’s Gauguin for you, and I don’t even admire them!

Looking like a skin tag, but the attending had to come in and look at it, the attending being female.

I’m never going to get a blowjob again, I say as they mark the thing a genital wart.

It’s just for the records, they say. We can’t remove it elsewise.

My wife was there. She saw them roll the thing up and fleck it off their finger. Enemies all around. They’ve got to be getting a twisting knife sort of thrill out of working to eviscerate me in front of my audience. All these people, they were okay with me having such a slick style back before the baby came, but now, that I am a dad proper, they think that they can come in and stand in my place.

This baby has freed me in so many ways. I must find a way to show my appreciation. I must care for it for all of my life. I must die before this baby dies. It is the least that I can do as a parent.

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Posted in Lit

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