Coach class and the second I pass go I don't want to.

In ******* or steerage
chained to the railings.

Dismal on the Central
like
clockwise down the
plughole.

My soul has been stolen and
shipped off
and being ******* is no
way to go on.

It's only Tuesday
a long way from
the weekend,
but far enough from
the beginning to know
going back
is too far.

Some mornings are as dark as can be
no light shines on me and I
see nothing but shapes which
I suppose are what makes me
aware.

In 91091,
this
number of a carriage
flicks off and then on
or maybe imagining is
all that is left of me.

Already draining away
and
still only Tueaday.

A herbal remedy
germaine to my malady
may help me.

God help me
the hype's got to me
'stay healthy,
live longer'
for what?

I'm taking a shot
loading the Glock
and
stopping the clock,

before the clock stops me.