Today I woke up and found that the ring and pinky fingers on my left hand were missing, gnawed off by rodents, I assumed. Or maybe I had chewed them off myself? Whatever the cause, I wasn't too alarmed. I accepted the situation. There was no blood or pain, the stumps looked as if they'd healed a long time ago, so with no emergency to attend to, I simply resigned myself to a life with two amputated fingers.
Then I really woke up and actually held my hand in front of my face to make sure the fingers were still there. When I saw that they were, I was relieved.
12 or 20 (second series) questions with Robert Swereda - Author of *re: verbs* (Bareback editions) and a chapbook * ionlylikeitwhenitrhymes*, *Robert Swereda* is a member of the *Filling Station *collective. He s...
11 hours ago