you're in college again
cervical biopsies and cancerous prophecies, cantakerous co-eds and germinous book heads. the escalator still clanks rhythmically - clunk clunk CLUNK clunk and the security guards still eye me, high from a pinch and a bitch in a lab coat who had the nerve to ask about my dogs. two, count em, two tampons inside to stop the bleeding, a nice dab of cold cream, no sex for a week. and CUNY can't check my correspondence cordially.