I Had Too Deep To Dream Last Night

 

gasps and sighs

of horror ripe

bright oranged round

when lights out

moon shines

off a blackened sky

 

I’m drunken stoned

on the bathroom floor

the sound of the

Click

of the sound of my pen’s clip

is the same as the sound that refuses to light my soul

 

derridas and foucaults

and ant sized pseudos

drooling drunk

on cocktails and punch

trucks and trucks

carrying a load of what not

horse hoofs

all galloping outside the window

dogs barking too

endlessly on a systematic scrunch

 

I’m trapped inside

this room

am I?

the heater glows

orange blows

split sunshine

into this dungeon hole

 

now back to the Click

to the sound of it

of its barrel

filled with warm smell

of burning woody gunpowder

 

against the tummy

right up to it

and bang!

shot shot shot

I shot myself eight times

panic panic

I panicked calmly any pain possible away

 

heater subsides

pulling all light inside

silence sucks out

all sound

numbing the ears

well before

screaming the shrill scream