It's early and a bit too noisy
I haven't opened my eyes yet
I hear the early bird in hunt of a worm
Maybe I too should get out of bed

Still laying here, I complain, about laying here
Criticism is nothing I like to hear
Then there's this other sound
A neighbor starting up his John deere

moving forward, I pretend I'm dreaming
With so much motivation I still slumber
To ignore my thoughts I think less
Slowly, I count number by number

Not long after I begin to think
To be or not to be at my bathroom sink?
Where I wash my face
Then brush my teeth

Hangovers are the worst
I disapprove of them in every way
I drink because I hate my job, but
Last night was because I knew today was the day before monday.

I work on Monday's...

“Let it go,” he said.
So I release it all slowly,
like those 99 red balloons that saved
our little misled souls on bad teenage days.
Release it, and watch it float up and away
in 99 different directions,
in 99 different shades of ruthless red.
Let it go, and instruct yourself
to set fire to any and everything
it’s ever touched.
Burn the bridges, scorch the paths,
cauterize the arteries that
pumped warm blood for its purpose.
Set the fires, and let the light
from the florid flames
illuminate the corners
of your newfound smile
as you watch the embers
dance themselves
into white, meaningless ash
above your head.

my mouth mechanically moves
wouldyoulikeabaghereisyourreceiptthankyousomuchforcominginh­aveaniceday
i wonder how many times i have said the same sentence in the last half hour
as those recycled, rearranged letters
squeak, tired, from the middle of my throat
a laugh, fake, tense, comes from my nose
as i feel what little soul there was in me to begin with
die
this can't be it
this can't be all there is
the helpless thoughts slide sluggishly by
what is the point of surviving so much
when this is all i have to look forward to?

heart up

(skips; j

umps)

breath cat-

ches on

e t w o t h r e e

.hair (tugs)

hands twist i

n frenzied locks;

slip s t g r o u g h.

(sleep escapes you:

dreams pur

g
E.

You know those moments
When you are content -
Realising everythings going to be alright?



Yeah, neither do I.

Monday's vision's fair of face
in the evenings the plasma rays shine
bright until seen through a window at a distance
******* energy from cables to my mind
blinding into happily blinkered existence

Tuesday's vision's full of grace
guilt makes me pull the covertous shutters down
being the observer is peep peeping embarrassing
being observed pays to add overtising shows on
it's so good not stirring when it's too disturbing

Wednesday's vision's full of woe
I am wilfully weak and slack on the couch
enjoying not having to speak or think
about being set up to get upset by nothing much
the sights flow seamless except when I blink

Thursday's vision has far to go
I would be there now but for one glitch
one flaw in the network's mesmeric sell
shared channels free as birds but rich
beyond the dragnet of any script's sequel

Friday's vision's loving and giving
in the smallest way it's electric beyond measure
distractions demanding attention with a hush
willing the constant whirling on with fresh images
look-look euphoric hooks to reel me in with a rush

Saturday's vision works hard for a living
and I'm wrapped in the dream of existing
by a simple drama of a varnished toenail
extending to a click the vanish going
going the way of Ting Ting Cao
your magnetic stimulation of the transcranial
kicks in and in my scrambled vision I saw
me touch your assimilation on redial
absorbing Sunday entire and raw
footage on display a draw so real
the pay channels dropped their jaw
surreal