Abora

joker’s cough

 12/28/18 10:41PM

 

they scrape glass

out of dirty test tubes

and rotting dumpsters

gnashing their teeth

at every dissonant government

 

the winds are stampeding

through my plain thought

drawing water to the surface

making muck

 

there’s shards in my eye

and my lungs crackle

while i wait to get better

 

i don’t even drink much anymore

until i fall down

and just roll in it

 

i might as well join the navy

with how much i swear

 i do it to stop my forehead 

from imploding deep into my brain snuffing out the last torrid rays

that light dusty rafters 

and black mold

 

i feel my speech bubble

morph into asterisks

daily