molemen! in irradiated dreamdander

sort of mole(ish)
the urge to
into the cool
soil. the
solitude of
digging deep
hoping to
strike the
mantle. happily
exploring the
vast interconnected
tunnel system
through this
hollow world.
there is as
much chance of
a subterranean
hidden eco system
as there is
becoming a
mole. but
it’s okay to

i am vibrating
a desolate
in the vacancy
their absence
has left. and
a bone deep
desire to be
held. just until
the headache
passes. until
i feel(anything)
more than this
roiling mass of
nothingness. my
hands absently
as if digging.

gives the false
hope you
can outrun
disaster. when
the truth is,
every second
seems dipped
in a perilous
overabundance of
calamitous woe.
maybe that’s
just the anxiety
screaming in
a constant
high pitched
droning whine.
falling apart
just as things
are coming together,
i could teach
self sabotage at
oxford. but i
disavowed myself
from, their,
extraneous, comma.

hi, my
name is mike.
talented tongue
and a throbbing
vocabulary. the
man of your
dreams, but only
when you catnap,
anything more,
and you’ll simply
silently move on.
half man, half
mole, half poet,
half mathematician.
a tick,
suckling the ass
of beauty,
swollen with an
desire for more.

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