****
i don’t know
find a way to do something
get out of bed
good for you

i’m tired of
nothing and
my hair is thick as weeds
it trails off where
my mind meets the edge of
nothing

what was i supposed to do
it’s gone now
oh well

**** tastes sweeter than wine when
regurgitated lovingly from
        a centipede’s stomach
used to it so crawl
        back for more
ring the bell
line up