morphine #92   (september 2, 20007)

it’s not a mind-wash

i’m fighting against lawyers

it’s more like

i’m a mental case

and i did it to myself

imported this fog

it’s easy to see

when you have been without it

sober contrasting

when you’re drunk two years

you don’t see what you’re missing

it’s the same morning

i’ve got a vantage

i had perfect clarity

a few days ago

i see what’s at stake

i feel how close the slip-up

the case of dumb-ass

i want some more sleep

but i drink coffee instead

universal

a pile of morphine

sits upon my compact desk

waiting for the con

beautiful slaughter

those inspiring flashes of fin

blues! hearts leap and cast!

cab to the island

1 am and twenty bucks

five minutes to sleep

i don’t let her sit

we take off from the city

her stop, one from mine

i gel my hair down

the roosta days are over

the mess is too close