The strings of my chest--
Spring forth;
Pop and coil--
Lasso the face of the hovering,
Naked,
V o i d .
If the room wasn't dark,
And if I were still a poet
My night-hands
Would
Awkwardly fumble--
Dumpster dive,
Like starving children
In the
Near-by
Drawer
For a paper and pen
Just to
Compose for you
Something c o n s t a n t
And e l o q u e n t.
Your ears would be lulled
To sleep by
The whisper
Of
My
C i r c a d i a n R h y t h m--
Where music suffers
And
The
Dull beat
Ricocheting
Off the cages
Of your chest
Is all I have to
Keep
Me
In
Time.
I wish I could have
Kept
You
In time.
I medicate--
Inject you
Into
My veins:
My fix
When I can't wait
On the burning bushes
Of elusive
God heads
With whom
I'm always aching to
Collaborate,
To whom
My flesh cries out:
"Alleviate.
This.
Pain."
I ripped out my
Oxygen
And my
IV
In
Traffic today:
A sea of
5:00.
W i t h o u t Y o u
I
A m
A
S e a
Of
5:00.
Fumes.
The fluid in my eyes is gasoline;
My nose is
Constructed
By
Black coated,
Coughing
Metal
Tail pipes.
My chest rattles:
Scathed by
The cadences
Of my demons
As they align
One-by-one,
Executing
Perfectly
The footwork
After
Sound-off.
Mine is the body
That aches for
Consumption--
Prays:
"Rest. Come."
Whose nervous system
Rings
After death--
Springs
Forth
Twitching
Fighting,
Flailing wildly
For its last chance
To live.
Lord,
I don't want it to live.
I want the hour to be too late
To rectify this sin.
Father,
Extinguish
My dreams
Of what
Could have
been.
