Life-support systems are optional. Just give me my two-week coma. And a sleep map to help me navigate the exhaustion grid.

Leave the tv on Fox News. And set the windowpane to shuffle. Pay the Asian nurse to sneak into my room after-hours and give me a handjob. I am lost in tired green hills where it is always twilight. Deformed children take my hand and lead me over the next summit. We carry wicker baskets and search the high grass for pills the size and color of Easter eggs. The nurse falls into my coma. She pulls up her skirt and lets me fuck her in the high grass while deformed children cheer and wave handfuls of color that die in the dying light.