morning mourning

sinking of the titanic
the last violin echoes
eyes blink water away
waking primal “words”
flaming pain, rotator cuff
rifling hands, slippery bottles
the dawn appropriate pills feed
at the bottom of the sloppy purse

let’s retreat meta-physically
that dude was my best friend
cause he couldn’t care-fully-get
the very idea that i was so selfish
he was, oh he was, and i, clumsily
showed him the finger i hammered

nonchalance fell like a lost para-chute
are you kidding? he, like, barely noticed

huh, what? that just makes me like you more

me? more?
where’d all that air come from
just billowing out of my lungs
i was a pool store killer whale

well, i guess we’re all immersed, aswim
all of us, nudging those with ick, hey now
c’mon, friend, we’re looking for a long wick
to light the murky way, warm aching figments
the ligaments of desire, stringing us to our bones
i follow along with a school of curious sin-sations

simply put:
“ouch!”