They Say

there’s always
an eye opening
moment
before sobriety.

The first time
for me was the
morning after
waking up

having dranken
from the tank my
miramo moss ball
was floating in.

i remember
drunk as fuck

lifting the
cold orb
into my palms

and pouring
its contents
down my throat

until it was
nearly
half empty.

it could
have been
poisonous.

Role Playing Game

if I was
a character
in an RPG

my race
would,
regretably,
be human.

my class
would be
druid.

As one of
the earth,

my power
Would be
dependent
upon

moon and
sun cycles.

I would
channel
energy
via proper
execution

of mythical
centering
techniques
[in hopes
to ground]

As this
shapeshifter,

my forms
Would 
depend upon

chemical
substances
I consume.

you would not
want to meet
other forms
of me

on a
bad day.

as any novice,
responsible
for containing
such force,
[vessel
of chaos]

I could not
control it
all the time.

I would attempt
to ride it out

without causing
excess destruction.

i could make
no promises.

Off with Her Head

cellular
soldiers
are suspicious

of why they
are getting
increasingly
worn down.

I see
them,

planning
a coup;

wrinkling
across
my hands.

they envy
every
sober person,

overheard
existing
[through
our ears],

in nearby
bodies
of land.

fascist
brain cells
[too
observant
for their
own good]

throw
bottles
back

[at the
cost of
all their
neighboring
cells]

decidedly
making
quicker suicide
of them all.

Is it too late to Heal ?

pray for Them

Every night
i drink,

and,
I mean

really


drink,

i forget
the gods
[aka
my organs]

arent
always
going to
forgive me.

the next
morning
after
desecrating
their
holy temples.

i beg
for
their
forgiveness,

“please,
take these
offerings
of nutrious
food items”

“i have
travelled
far from
the bed
i’d
like to
still be
sleeping
hungover in
to worship
you all,”

“please
cleanse me
of these
sins
of mine.”


Ordinary