The worst times have come, enzymes screech as they hunger, pulled under a sugar coma, this caffeine buoyed boat sunk at last. Nerve in vinegar, ligaments drag the canal. My breath is bricks. Riddles I was fed, each one a knife I was cut, each one a state I was in, I was not allowed out and unable to anticipate the joy of death, carpets, comics and lucozade, non-bio cleansing scents, I was not allowed out embraced by all this and lost in the folds.
don’t cry as I’m thoughtless in the luminous ground