my chemical morning

a dream needed finishing

(woke up bawling)

so i took a baby-brush

to my baby-teeth and 

rattled my bottle empty

in the end i am only

thirsty like a sponge

or young tyrant

past the dumpster

the ghost of a man

who last year urged

me to quit smoking

clicks his tongue

there’s a critter

the size of a feather

on the insides

of my throat 

and there’s a reservoir

of goo pooling

in the vats behind 

my eyes

far into the cave

( i have to believe it)

there’s a flank of me

not yet rotted

a wedding chapel

all tied up in tendons

a calf wandering

for milk and honey

in here

a cut above

all the props 

i must love