Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?

pastorofnone Poems

I have come to cherish the lucky-dice nights when the Adderall just lingers, staying late— much later than times of near-lethal lethargy that leads to interrupted comatose slumber I’ve allied with the recurring habits of winning Most Sober of the Evening, for in my solace, I’m dropping the needle, dancing to Molly's Lips and kicking off damp, muddy socks I feel somewhere—-myself, a place you may have touched and try to burn a placebo curvature along a place you may once have ignited, your artificial fingertips, and trace the beginning of a word, but I lose track where ever the middle may have been Needle scratch, loop, stuck in one, or many grooves Try to exhaust the corporeal, sway, fall, slam body against the wall Memorialize yourself so no one has to, Your storage-unit temple drinking from a dark green bottle Shimmy with a crowbar, lift and uncover, Toss it all in a trash pile For God to rediscover