Eyes reluctantly open.
Almost daylight.
Panicky cockroach scuttle
inside my skull.
A gutful of wasps
and the imagined ticking
of a very real clock.
Never been a morning person,
but this is something else.
Vague chest pains in the
watery sun.  An inconsequential
aching sort of roughly
where my heart should be.
*****, used fly paper sky and
every in-drawn breath saturated
with chemicals and
not really trying.

Considering the possibility
I might drop dead any second.
Shrug.
It seems unlikely that
the morning
will prove so
interesting.