Jimmy’s gutted, insides fall out, eggs break, yolks run. Jimmy’s pounded to pulp, scared shitless. Heart pumps ice. Jimmy shakes. Jimmy sweats. Fuck!
Today, Lady Friend throws Jimmy out.
Jimmy’s on street. Winter. Shelter full. No place to go. Scared shitless. Fuck!
-Is she taking her meds? Flower asks.
-Yeah.
-You drinking?
-Just wine.
Jimmy’s inside-out, heart pumps ice, pulse bangs in ears. Jimmy shakes. Jimmy sweats. No place to go. Winter. Fuck!
-She knows you don’t love her, Jimmy, Flower says.
-I know.
-She knows you use her, Jimmy.
-I know.
-You know you’re fucked, Jimmy.
-I know.
-Whatta gonna do, Jimmy? Flower asks.
Flower knows what Jimmy will do.
Jimmy drinks bottle wine.
-I want to kill myself, Jimmy tells ER doc.
-Have you been using drugs or alcohol?
-Just wine, Jimmy tells ER doc.
Piss test a winner. Jimmy goes to detox 3 days.
3 days hot food, 3 days hot shower, 3 days clean sheets. What Flower calls Trifecta.
Jimmy sees Psych doc, Social Worker. Questions, answers. Round and round.
-How are you feeling, Jimmy, they ask.
-Feel good, feel pretty good.
Jimmy’s discharged. Jimmy’s out. Jimmy goes to Lady Friend’s place.
Lady Friend stopped taking meds. Thank God, Jimmy thinks.
Lady Friend sleeps 20 hrs day. Thank God.
Lady Friend’s place is warm. Thank God…
Jimmy feels good.
Jimmy feels pretty good.
Heart pumps ice
William J Fedigan writes about who he is, who he knows, what he knows, and where he’s been. His work appears in Kerouac’s Dog, Muscle & Blood, Heavy Hands Ink, Stanley the Whale, MiCrow, Metal Scratches, experiential, Pulp Metal Magazine, blacklisted, Gone Lawn, Spittoon Magazine, Weirdyear, Burning Word, Black Heart Magazine, A-Minor, Barge Journal, Speech Bubble, Writing Disorder. Contact him: wfedigan@aol.com