Blocked Unblocked

Over time, but not too much time, I found myself to be blocked. My head was full of wax, it started to coat the brain. My nose was stuffed with a full roll of tissue, you could pull it out like magic cloths. My mouth, packed with debris. I breathed and ate through a hole in my neck, but even then there was a blockage of syrup to contend with. It spurted out like blood in a zombie flick, and you could spread it on toast.

Then there was my stomach hanging in a web of bubblegum, and the intestines could barely contain all the gravel I swallowed on my travels. My heart pumped against a layer of Lego bricks.  I was clogged up, blocked up, fucked up, funked up, gunked up.

Doctors promised me solutions, but when they poked and prodded they had to stitch everything back together due to the boredom that came with cleaning me out. There is no satisfaction in eternity.

But one quack insisted he could unblock me. Operating in a back alley he poked my nose, prodded my stomach, then proceeded to suck out my excess innards with a straw. The wax, the Lego, the debris, the gravel, the tissues, the bubblegum… it all came flooding out onto the back alley floor. I was finally unblocked, but he couldn’t stop the flow, and my blood, guts and everything else started to spill from my holes. I was unblocked, I was drained, I was lying in it all, I was unable to handle this release. Again I was like a special effect in a zombie flick. And all I could do was tick.

The doctor took my money and chewed on some gum he found in his straw. A job well done he told me, and what could I say? I was far too drained to talk.

 

 

 

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