ProseHOse and Sprinkler by Fsbof Jsty II.

Prose Hose and Sprinkler by Fsbof Jsty II.
Starring at the floor shadows black grey tiny floor sparkles shining up changing tints morphing glimmers, now looking down and downing bobbing head, thinking low and lower and then the terror thoughts terrorizing--puddles of thick coagulated and fresh alizarine crimson sloopslopslipsliding gory blood. Entrails too. That sticky sickening
stench--red mud reded mud sand and brick muddied red blood under
red smeared crying tears of bloody crimson leaves upon rotted guts and
carrion. Dex was having one of his moods this day.
Up now, press the filthy snotanddirt minuterie électrique, up these hundred year steps exuding sexurinedopesnotsandspit to his room in
a 12 room hotel rented by whorehookersdopersheroinaddictsdrunksalcoholics and Dex. Inside
an overusedoverworked bed un grand lit as the French called it with one
giant tubular had pillow that must be removed before sleeping unless you are masochist, a small sink, a great armoire and a table and chair.
Down the hall to the toilet with raised foot pads of cement that strattled
a four inch hole and a cord to pull that splashed water every where upon pulling the cord, unless you pulled the cord and hastily ran out the door.
Dex called this arrangement home.