Climax Drug Mouth

Drugs and cookies by the fire,
homo-erotic living room re-decorating,
cold words to the mystery phone,
and my waiting rot in frames of blue coma.


The eventual truth to these paranoid shamanic dilutions,
The possible fuck behind a dumpster glory half-way house,
The lost crush hemorrhage driveway mainline.

Smoke and mirrors by the fire,
psychiatric re-programming,
warm tweaks on the downtown synthesizer,
and my espresso couch groove.


The suppository geography of neutral sin,
The stock market renal failure candy canes,
The happy place under the kitchen sink.

The past is a feral gas station,
waiting for the black lungs of holistic depression
and the typewriter spiders nest
in the lapse between dreams