pants, pizza, wet nose

me:   it’s cold

me:   pants would help

me:   but they’re uncomfortable

me:   and I’d have to leave my bed

me:   I also want pizza

me:   but the de­liv­ery guy doesn’t do bed­side visits

me:   and it’s cold

me:   and I don’t want to put on

me:   DID I JUST HEAR A BORK BORK??

me:   **runs into liv­ing room full of strangers** DOG? DOG??

room­mate:   IS THERE? uhh … across the street?

strangers:   …

me:   I have a problem
 

—mel­ony ppenosyne

Flom­mist Mel­ony Ppenosyne is a writer and weird artist type. In the last year alone, she’s trav­eled to Vir­ginia as a com­pet­ing poet, co-writ­ten a play on men­tal ill­ness that is present­ly be­ing pro­duced, and craft­ed a pub­lished es­say check­ing the priv­i­lege and scope of art gal­leries. Copy­right © 2016 Mel­ony Ppenosyne. Pho­to by flom­mist Bri­au­na Ru­pert.

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