—MY SCREAM GOT LOST IN A PAPER CUP

i’ve been down

didn’t think

it’d be this heavy

or gauche

ghostlike

me always

reaching for some

hair of the dog

morning

noon

night

if there’s a way up

i sure as hell

can’t find it

where’s the glint

of summer

where’s a glimmer

of hope

on the wing

of that

cabbage white

butterfly

that just flew by

goddamn it

i loved that thing

so much

the rain keeps

typing on these

plastic panes

july ready-ruddy

in my leaky

boat-throat

childhood bed

lamenting about

star-crossed

coincidences

while the

long hand

on the clock

aims

a pistol at

my chest

you can probably

guess the rest

how i’m here

on the floor

gin and tonic-eyes

falling backwards

and sideways

twilight zone-style

sucking on

the tip

of a

delicious

silver bullet