Waking up, I
was unable to
breath out one
nostril.
I sit up and start
sneezing my head
off.

The snot doesn’t
just clog my nose
—it drips out.

One gooey drips
lands on my copy
of Billy Childish’s
poetry book The
Man With The
Gallows Eyes.

It just arrived in
the mail yesterday.

I forget about it
and got in the
shower.

The snot was a
glittering splotch
by the time I got
out.
I rubbed it and
that part of the
cover came off.

The Man With
The Gallows Eyes
is now ‘The Man
With The Scratched
-Out Nose’.

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