High Demand

Once, I told a boy, “I am in high demand,” and he brought it up, later, “Remember when you said you were in high demand?”
and what I meant was, I thought lots of people found my company appreciated
and I could choose a few different parties or just hang out with different varieties of peoples
because I was mostly calm and didn’t take shit from anyone and told everyone how I felt–
well, usually. Because instead of saying, “I’m not interested in your company”
I made excuses for why I couldn’t connect, I said, “I am in high demand.”


Once, I watched a film which took me– police detecting,

infiltration to underground
black markets dealing in
human organs.

Action and blood in chaos
set against dark surgical headquarters. . .

I barely escape,  wounded
through a series of surreal
and Wizard-of-Gore-like events,

identities of organ dealers are revealed,
and I don’t want him to plan his revenge as

I, too, am more of an avant garde art film
than straight horror,

“That movie is pretty much all that I have thought about for the past 12 hours.”