this morning



mental paralysis,

reductive mobility,



games of such,



highlighting

a need for coffee,



preferably iced



It wouldn't be so bad in here

if we could just open the windows



but that ain't how it works, now, is it?



vertigo



the hidden orgasm of the world

bombing down the freeway

of everyone's



one shining chance for glory

like a Mack truck

on fire



If I can just find the time

(you will see)



I will be that blood-covered

one standing

in slick

glorious

repose,



feline,

spraddle-legged



over the fresh-killed foe,



gore drooling

from the tip

of my broadsword



all a motherfucker wanna be

is paid,

laid



and

unafraid.



Or if none

out of three,



then

still OK