where troubles melt like lemon drops high above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me

clenched up in a ball

ice picks behind my eyes

tears streaming freely down my cheeks

somewhere under the pavement

that’s where they’ll eventually find me

the left over bits of nothingness that once made up a man

trash blown to the back of the alley

the only thing worse than being alone is doing it in a foreign city where everyone is happy and bustling and you have a perpetual thunderhead like a cartoon kid in a yellow shirt with a zig zag stain

the syrupy southern accents and looks of confusion at the angry man with bee stung cheek and sultry lips

i’m not lost i just don’t know who i am

not confused

convoluted

not insane just not circling the same drain

it’s beautiful in kentucky

the kind of place you bring a loved one and marvel at nature

or where you look like you’re deciding where to bury the body rapidly decomposing an ode to a life declarative sentence in a four by six room without a view

conjugating the conjugal visits and wondering if that is a file or if i’m just happy to see you

am i sinking or are you getting taller

did i drink the wrong drink left labeled by the shaky hands of a coked out rabbit

i feel like the turtle at the beginning of grapes of wrath

flipped onto my shell and dodging the slow moving illiterates lost in the dust bowl of my imagination

even my imaginary friends packed up and went on a cruise

cheek hurting from the blown kiss of an angry bee

willing to kill itself to not have to be near me

that says something about the nothing i find myself in

the only thing willing to be near me did a kamikaze run at my face in an effort to enact anaphylactic shock and awe

if happy little bluebirds fly across the rainbow, why oh why can’t i