Chapter two – In Which Melanecholia is Experienced

A crush, a hush

A stinking pile of mush-

Hanhannahnah had been hallucinating for three days and it was starting to get on her nerves.

An oozing, leaking,

Hiding, peeking

Goblin in a rush!

The visions weren’t bad, she got used to them. If anything they enhanced life: added some texture to otherwise pedestrian experiences.

A scream, a stream

A pull against the beam!

Really, if it turned out that the visions weren’t hallucinations, that she’d misjudged (again) and assigned reality to the wrong stuff…that would be okay. It really would.

A pierced heart

By poison dart

From stem to stern full ream’d!

But Jesus: the verses were something else.

A cloud, so loud,

As if a mouse meow’d-

They were really getting to her. Repetitive doggerel for three days was no way to live.

A glossy hill

Of bitter pills

To take against the crowd!

Beyond anything else it was an affront to her personally. Reasoning that the hallucinations came from inside

So snide! So wide!

To push against the tide!

her, and that the poems were her own compositions in some sense…

An iron fence

Of bold pretense

Well, it was gutting that she had such a bad poet inside her.

Please place your guts outside.

Also they kept telling her to kill herself. Poorly.

“’Please place your guts outside?’ Really? Really? What…what does that even mean?”


“Do you mean mean, like I should…should self-eviscerate? Cut myself open?”

“Ma’am, this is a Wendy’s.”

“Here? In Wendy’s, in front of God and Wendy and everyone? What would I even do it with?”

“Uh, Dabin? We have a situation here. It’s a code- shit, what’s the one for a crazy person having an episode? Is that ‘code Biggie Fries’?”

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