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Wednesday for Dick

 Brandon A.M.
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 Brandon A.M.
Wednesday for Dick
by Brandon A.M.  FollowFollow
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Brandon A.M. is not broke, homeless, or gay. Consequently, he will never be a good writer.
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Wednesday for Dick
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I COULDN'T SHIT AGAIN and it was Wednesday.

I read a book by Drucker and sobbed in my bedroom. The comforter was paisley. The phones were ringing in my apartment. I mocked myself in a pocket mirror for not understanding how to use my cell phone. I listened to a Bruce Springsteen album, and then posed. I stopped posing because Springsteen wouldn't do it. I started posing again because he always did. I ordered chinese from the Twin Dragon, and when the delivery man arrived I pretended not to be home. I tried to do pushups and did one.

I went out.

When I came back I tried to shit again. I laughed at a small statue of a monkey inquisitively holding a skull. I circled both my nipples with a dry erase marker. I wondered what I'd look like with a mustache. I worried about the comment my mailman made concerning my lack of neck girth.

I was going to grow my hair long again. I needed more collared shirts.

I left my apartment again, and put a note on the door that read, "Honey, go around back." I went back inside. I called a former concubine's cell and asked her if she remembered me. I laid on the couch with my head hanging over the edge, upside down, and became emotional. I hopelessly drifted around my apartment like a ghost, but moaned less than the one that was already there.

I wondered aloud, "Boxers or briefs?"

I had no answers.

I made six protein shakes, drank three, and vomited on my burberry coat. I got in my car and drove away. While coasting through a crosswalk, I yelled nonsense at a man my age. I went food shopping. I came back and parked my car. I couldn't walk anymore because my legs were sore because I got too many groceries because I was hungry and because I lived on the second floor.

I tried to shit again and thought about some things.

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Poem of the Week

I Walk In Snow

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Author of the Week

Jessica Dawson is a modern-day Wendy. She lives in California with Peter Pan, a preschool diva and a future statistic, unfortunately. She’s the author of one book of poetry, Fossil Fuels (Verve Bath Press), and has had poems published in Thunder...read more Sandwich, The Montucky Review, Passenger May, killpoet, Words Dance, Remark., Nefarious Ballerina, and
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