discoloured words
a mass in my gob
bled down from the gutty brain
a study
plucky of death..

..if i widen my mouth
dislocate my serpent jaw
and exhume my ugliness
exhaust my ugly breath ...?

if ?

if i trot out the door
in this mug
with this base full of blather ?

i swipe ***** hands on my lap
and focus my eyes
adjust to the scene

this bold idea is not for me
today is a sick day
practice my interior tricks
the doles from my doctor
and reform as less bogged
less fastened to the kink
of The Individual