Dirt Tats

Itching, days on end,
I peel beige bandages
off
flesh and hair married to
adhesive
the first rush of
non-hospital air
relives the dull pain
of sutures
dried blood
finally gets washed
with a hot water
anti-bacterial sting
accompanies.

A day later
I look down
at a bloated
lazy days belly
and map
  Incan burial mounds
  sacrificial Aztec spaces
  an ill-planned tennis court
  schematics for condos
across the week long glue.

For fun
I draw stick figures
in its spaces;
hieroglyphics for the next
anthropologist to travel south.