this week is
going to be a grind
big installation
across the city with
a coworker who has
developed an attitude
in addition to having
this sorrowful pulse
from cardial shattering
as the chimes sound out
a mournful tale of
cold winds blowing

the coffee does little
thos stygian brew of
caffeinated darkness
swirls bitternesss across
the stump where my tongue
once flapped idiotically
the rough stitches
leaving red lines on the
inside of my mouth warning
not to think or speak
as this entire catastrophe
is bad enough without me
adding my nonsense to
the funeral proceeding

i would crawl back into
bed if i wasn’t all too
aware of the futility of
seeking a moment of solace
in this hailstorm of
self fulfilling prophecies
culminating in an overly
agitated fool with no
release from his own hell
no sleep no dream no reprieve
just a week trapped doing
an installation across town