can’t tell
if it is loud exhaust
or thunder
or if i am actually
awake on the couch
as subsonic vibrations
rattle another
goddamned poem loose

it’s become
impossible to tell
if i am spiraling
upwarddownwardinward
or simply in place
i just know i am dizzy
and i have wanted off
this fucking ride
for decades now

need a port drilled
into the back of my skull
so random people can
pluginandridethelightning
for a nominal fee
better than therapy
for letting you see
tangible proof things
can always be worse

maybe i am undercompensating
writing horrific poetry
when i could weld a
coffee can to my exhaust
and impregnate every
woman in a ten mile radius
on the rare occasions
i can force myself out
of the fucking apartment

can you feel the rotation
of the planet right now
orisitthedrugsandlackofsleep
figure take more drugs
to counteract the spins
aredoneandablackone
awhiteoneandtwogreenones
i graduated from building
houses out of cards to
using rusty razor blades
and a lack of insurance
means this balancing act
could end in deathbytetanus