Leak

Drip.
Splash. Cool.

Is it a gallon or the most meagre dram? No, the
gallon was last night. Were there any drams?

Drip. Splash. Cool.

It's hurting, but in a nice way. Water! Thought
I recognised the smell. In the cool phase, there is bouncing - no
re-vib... Reverberation. Behind the forehead. Probably. Time is
telescoped. Can I move? Should I move? I'll think about that. No. Too
difficult. My eyes are still shut, or everything has turned ochre.
Outside then, or a strange artificial light.

Drip. Spu-lash. Cooool.

I wonder if it's a tap or leaking pipe? My
forehead isn't wet. There's no sizzle, but I reckon there's enough
heat in it to evaporate the droplets during the cooling phase.

So my karma IS good. Why else have I woken up
under a leak of some kind – just when my hundredweight of head
needs it?

Dri-ip. Spur-lash. Cooooooool.

The leak is slowing, I think. I hope it doesn't
stop. How far is it falling? Is the sensitivity of my head deceiving
me concerning the downward velocity of liquid matter?

Forming those words inside this head hurt a bit,
I admit. It's better than thinking about how I got here. Wherever
that is. There have been dreams. Of course there have. Two dwarves
and a transvestite in conversation about Bukowski – but that could
have been real. The interval is stretching. Or not. Is time elastic?
Or plastic?

I turn my head to the side. Mistake. My temples
are in the Devil's mole grips. I turn my head - slowly – back.

Drrrrrrrri-iiippp. Ssssssppppp---lasssshh.
Cccooooooolllllll.

Yes, good Karma: the leak is aimed at my
forehead, my mouth is not open; I will not drown. My torture will
pass in the time it takes to rehydrate through absorption. I hope I
am in the gutter and not in the road. Time, elastic or otherwise, for
meditation on the human condition, or the inhumane condition I have
left myself in. Or on the two transvestites and the dwarf. Was it
that way round? Does it matter? Only if it was a dream, I think.

Drip. Splash. Cool.