Caught Up in Cough

I live
in the glass peak of a thermometer
screaming mercury, full pop and smash.

When I am angry? O lord
how I am angry.
I’m a blade in Levi 511s, I’m a fucking howl.

Cocktailed to hell and letting you squirm on the patio.
You’re on the hook now, honey, and it looks good from down here.

I could apologize
or light a cigarette.

The tether taut, I’d know. Never faked a love,
never felt more held by what I no longer hold.

Yes, Bee, my whole body feels
like a phantom limb now. Beer in the a.m.
googling suicide notes. Forever a draft
on the table.

“These last few days are among the happiest I’ve ever ignored.”

Swooning for the scatter,
debris fingers, flotsam,
flotsam flotsam and shuck.

I’m a mess and so are you, all of this.
Blonde babies with a cackle for a hip
saying some stupid shit
at 3 in the morning.

Everyone thinks
they know something.

I wish I could forget what I look like.

These are gifts. This is always.

I’m going to draw you a map.