Us raccoons eat like hobo's

I need a shot of something familiar

sepia

they flipped a black button
the room rolled down hill
flat
with a white oak floor
ornate beveled trim
beige thistle wallpaper we could stand on

and a flash that's all too faint
i looked down
visions
photographs and my intestines on the ground
blood gushing from my chest

i'll take a whiskey please

my hands steady shaking
as the worlds steady changing

breaking rails off hospital beds
conniption fit
in the middle of the road
route me in your direction

did i turn off my Love
like you
like a faucet
 
no,
i'm just a surprise
waiting
for the morning crew to come in
find a flooded kitchen
and say "fuck"


but i'd rather have you

my heart hurts
but i won't attack









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this write is about a Wednesday trip to the photo studio,life flashing before my eyes, and a yearning for a familiar memory,a touch because this world changes too much and what is really left of our true selves after months,years of change and change and change.

maybe we all just die to change

i wrap nervous ideas around a queasy stomach and wonder just who's next to go.

just how many of us are scared to die
and how many of us put up a charade

they put us to work and we all forget why were here
to live
to feel
this vicious cycle frightens me

they look at me like a lake the're just waiting to drain
and turn into a strip mall
to just put more people to work.

i digress, but thank you for you time.