Another Monday Chat

I’m in a writing rut, he IMs me

from his Deviant Psych class. Can’t even find

a better metaphor. He needs a TV

or movie pitch.  I tell him to people-watch

in Santa Monica.  He says those people deserve shrinks,

not TV shows.  Somehow “Serial Killer Idol” emerges:

Whose MO will fool detectives this week? 

Help your favorite hide the evidence!

The protagonist? A man who needs the prize

money for his girlfriend’s chemo…or abortion.

Because they’re so similar. What if

she needs the abortion because the fetus

has cancer? DARK DARK DARK  😛  he types,

followed by the apparent fact that

the dopamine in one hit of crystal meth

is the equivalent of twelve orgasms.

Someone started paying attention to the lecture.

He goes on about crank bugs, and I know

he’s not worried about the pitch anymore.

My work here is done.

Dinnertime.

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