Stirring up defense on postcards
A four fingered monstrosity nailed to a crooked frame
She’s locked on Broadway with a smoking gun
3 nicotine patches and a bottle of codeine



I brush the deep red onto my fingertips
Blow the chemicals and sarcastic remarks through
Escape exits, Air vents, coolant and dirty water
Just like any other Sunday
[Snapping polaroids of charred sunsets]


I watch her breathe
In and in and out and panicked


In and out and in in sobriety


And I’m marking the rhythm of anxiety into the postage corner
Ball point black chicken scratch any shrink would define as tragedy


Just like any other Sunday
[Dreaming up new tarnished conditions]

I fantasize about going crazy
While watching her choke on oxygen
Cough up remorse and black tar
[She’s so pretty when she’s so close to slipping]

So close
So cl.……





Flash snap down tear drops in postcards
Holding a plastic mirror through rotting limbs
[She’s so pretty when she’s flying off the ledge]



And I shove antipsychotics down her throat
While she lies on split legs
So close.
Just like any other Sunday
Any other Thursday
Any other Monday….


They’re all the fucking same.


So close to the last day.
So close.



So……