Days have ventured by
haphazard-quick
but nevertheless captious
opinionated as a castrated casuist
numb but brain-ready over-drive
constant thickened thoughts
for the next fix...

Whatever city you befriend
whatever your home,
boulevard far or closer Strip
or Suburbia ever-green
she is easy to find
anyone looking
a dirge in their eyes...

As much as one
would like to disappear
with sniffing silence that comes
when the nose itches white wishes
or lungs
burn to breathe
cacophony...

Days will drag on
insect insidiously
all the while, she waits
to enliven Saturday night conversations
becomes geode-gibberish
gladness
from a tunnel of a dollar bill
a straw
she knows / she stands in
whatever city you befriend
whatever your home
she speaks your dry tongue
a language that weeps
escapism
embolism...

She is very forgiving:
the space between numb
& living.