After much evaluation,
I do not think
this place to be the trouble
or to warrant change.
I am the trouble, and I am
indelible from it.
Guilt inundates the mind
as a byproduct:
nausea and exhaustion are an
ungodly synthesis
indicative of something--
something...
And if I were given a dollar
at each instance,
I could buy a carton
of cigarettes.
At first, I thought that
funny.
Now I think I should not think
at all.