The yellow pill

(from my notebook a few days back – better now)

In the grip of a headcold – or as the Contact box says, Toux, Rhume, et Grippe. Somehow that more adequately conveys misery. Grippe, grippe. In the grip of the grippe, gripe, gripe, gripe.

The daytime Contact is an insane yellow

uranium radium highlighter warhol
van gogh
sunflower sulfur
cadmium mexico daliah
yellowcake yellow

It promises to be non-drowsy. This is true. It gives me a case of hysterical giggles like three glasses of red wine and a bowl of sugar, and then knocks me cold for two hours. At no time am I drowsy.

I am about to take Contact Nuit, the blue pill. I do not know what awaits me.

I record here my quest, so that if I do not return, others may know it. I have wanted to love God, to love James, to cook slow food, to finish painting the house, and to write better poetry than any human being who has ever lived.

Also a little more money would be nice.