a momentous occasion
I just set myself on fire. Literally. Andi dropped me off at my apartment, and as I got out a bit of still-burning cigarette ash must have gone astray. I saw glowing red ash fall to the ground out of nowhere, and then I smelled burning. I was searching myself frantically thinking "stop drop and roll stop drop and roll" but the burning wasn't to be found. I tried waving down Andi, but she just thought I was waving goodbye and then I must have fanned the flames because my arm felt warm and MY SLEEVE WAS SUDDENLY ON FIRE IN A HUGE WAY. The impulse is to flail, I'm going to tell you, but that just makes the fire worse. The sleeve of my sweater was on fire inside my coat, but I managed to pull it away from my body and put it out on the railing. Shit, man. I am hardly even burnt, but that shit was fucked up.
Now I am going to write about memory-space in various poems, hyphen included. Even though I am a little bit drunk. At least I managed to get out before I got too drunk. But in this case, you could say it was out of the frying pan and into the fire. (That would be an even more fitting aphorism is "fried" meant trashed, but I think it means high, huh? Who can say. Let's just pretend it means trashed. Because then party=frying pan. It's great. This is the kind of attitude I need to take into my over-worked one-paragraph assignment.)
Now I am going to write about memory-space in various poems, hyphen included. Even though I am a little bit drunk. At least I managed to get out before I got too drunk. But in this case, you could say it was out of the frying pan and into the fire. (That would be an even more fitting aphorism is "fried" meant trashed, but I think it means high, huh? Who can say. Let's just pretend it means trashed. Because then party=frying pan. It's great. This is the kind of attitude I need to take into my over-worked one-paragraph assignment.)