I carried a credit card of empty plastic candy bags I ate
sugar and chocolate on a bench in front of the store i watched
a man trade a fifty dollar bill for a pack of camels and a ball of coke I drank
too much the night I was offered a job if I bent over the counter or got on
my knees under

none of which things have given me a run for my childhood these days
I run around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get off
it or at least get over it true i was happy once
but
hey
listen up
nothing lasts their days put me in a body bag when my bandages came off right zipped me up quiet and sent me home to somebody
else's life I know
what I know your letters from death row
say you are making a comeback my killer
cool love and a lifelong dependency
on pharmaceuticals got you through
and Hallelujah you’ve found
Jesus too

overdone
myself just about done like some
lonesome dog’s dinner afterwards I smoke a gun down the back of my throat
and a personage of great personal magnitude like God with a world view
comes creeping
into my room saying open your mouth and close
your eyes today or next week you are going
to die-it-turns out he was acting

on false information my body was no weapon
of mass destruction only a self-destructive mass
with gumdrop nipples and hardcore angel eyes
cry sometimes when I feel righteous I check out
into a holiday inn take time off the novel hotel theory
life to smoke crack or whatever designated
drug is currently discombobulating
the minds of the glued to-their-TV’s in-terror-populace
this eon I was happy
once letting snowflakes fry on my tongue.

I’d rather open my mouth for a snowflake
than a gun but God is pushing the deadlier
weapons these days not even a snowflake
falls on my eyelids anymore without leaving
a bruise i crawl my fingers upon sliding my eyes down beneath your lids to read your last letter
began "I’d die
for you" and because that sounded promising
I made the mistake of reading
through to the inevitable end “Did you ever
receive that money order I was supposed to
send? I need it back. Asap.” Love don’t
suck dead dog dick pistol Love supposed
to kick ass way Jesus do.

i sat by the new green chair and tasted flavoured condoms
downstairs with dark-haired machine sounds
ringing behind my ears, piercings made of metal fall out quicker
than he makes a new beat on his computer.
robot noises this digital age doesn't mean
you can forget magazines and old careers made of poems.