stimulant jitters
again:  another
cigarette , why not
coffee, why bother
to eat

if infinity exists i’m sure to get there
quicker; if god
is real i’m not going to meet him
in my sleep.  i promised you
to not stop writing;  now I can’t.  
this is the only high
i’m used to, anymore.

                                              i
have been introduced, finally,
to the mirthless dementias
of awakeness,
and the men who strap them down,
screaming,
to stretchers, and to            sleep,
and they don’t wear white coats but axes,
and the axis turns too
quickly
for biblical words
to anymore impact us:
                                               the heels click,
the sidewalk cracks              minutely,
the hungry
daydreams
die
-----------------
[ i
  sleep.
  the heels click
  minutely ]