i want to stop running up the slope & sit & stuff
my face with oil-based red or butcher my stomach
through my navel. my dissolved journey home &
home is nothing more than a glimpse of that
fucking park bench gushing down to quench
my hunger. everybody who has a good heart
should love me except i cannot love them back
on the edge of the ceiling lamp so charmless--
we are all solvent. now sit, watch, wait &
you will not cross the line unless i tell you to &
i will dive down the muddy drain instead.
so damn good i read it numerous times just to experience its awesomeness repeatedly
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