as i went through piles and piles of mail at my office, i came across one particular one that caught my eye and my hair and my lashes and twisted my toes and made me want to pee really bad. it was a particular name. of some president of some company.
dick posthumus.
(i wonder what dick likes to do at night?)
(i wonder what he ate yesterday?)
(i wonder if anyone can forget his name?)
(at all, at all)
(i wonder if he'll bike down chicago streets with me, hand in hand?)
(i wonder if i can write a song about him?)
(or a poem)
(or name a pastry after him)
(or a funeral home)
( )
(or)
i've said the name over and over and over again all day. it's cheap thrill. but when you're stuck in front of a monitor within panels in what they now like to call a "work station" (and not a cubicle), it's little things like these that make you want to curl and laugh and then maybe get back to work for another five more minutes.
so, here i go.
1 comment:
I would totally eat a pastry named Dick Posthumus.
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