HEP-ATITUS

(a sonnet)  
     
A plague of fetid blood so I’ve become
Who vomits only bile and drywall dust
In horrid little squares whose added sum
Is so much sewer pipe and iron rust      

A blood that has no purpose left to serve
But poison heart that nothing should remain
A black oil crust that’s shredding every nerve
Like shards of ground glass coursing through my brain      

I wish that I could open veins and smear
Cute rounded flowers everywhere I see
But even then would square on square appear
My blood coagulates in squares of scree

To vomit bloody squares is all I can
Which takes me back to where my shit began.