2 Month Chip

I

When your doctor’s a quack

When no one follows the script

When the bottle’s already empty

Self-medicating gets you nowhere

 

II

Sliding like smoke down the street

Humming like an insect

Gassed and pickled and twitching on a pin

The world mixes and swirls into a rich purple

The color of after midnight sky

The color of contusions

(Been there burnout done that,

Got the shirt, soaked it in formaldehyde)

 

III

Pity me

I think I’m a lycanthrope

It paints me a pugilist

Leaves me logorrheic

Turns me from a puppy

To something rabid

Something less than a saint

 

IV

Once upon a time

Grendel drove his furry claw

Into Heorot’s heart

And grasped for something to cleave to

And Beowulf tore the fucking thing right off

 

Silly beast making fists

Loveless beast breaking bones

Clutching broken things to its chest

Howling in the dead of night

Stupefied at how fragile it is

How much it hurts

How hard it is not

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