Vortex

Jet streams of colours

Thick shapes

Sharp words

Bright flashes

Pencils voices THINGS

Spinning, slamming

Pinning my spine

Against dirty floors –

(I also have

A sinus problem)

I can’t build anything

With this many tools

Too much clutter

I can barely

Stretch a lung

Or pull my mind

Off the fireplace grate.

Paperweights

On my ankles

Nails, nailed

Into my shoes

Problems, solutions

Of, for, by, beside

Myself

Dust, on my eyelids

I can’t see, for it

Or breathe

Without coughing fits.

I’m old, frail

Midlife crisis

At twenty

The Internet

For all its glory

Cannot help

(Too much,

Much, too much)

Make way

Bring a bucket

This brain has had

One too many

Tonight.

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