hope is a drug i used to take.
now the miracles I pantomime
are half asleep, and tomorrow
is a dog i can’t keep.
but i can keep the howl.
i can keep some impossible things
but alas, the freakish memories
will be suspect… and all the arrows of Time
will cleave the apple of my
distracted mind,

i was defective immediately.
born among the throng of imps
in the Imperium of Last Things.
i was made from a husk of “ Almost There”
and i bench press Oblivion
by the ton.