Inertia

I hear the ice clicking in the glass
And I know my real life is far
Away from here
And being documented
I’d sell my blood
For one cup of poison
But you lead a horse to water . . .
And then you strangle him and
Push him under and buy
A car

It’s time to put on the prosthetic head
It’s time to wed the widow who wets
The bed and kiss her as she
Laughs and slaps
It’s time to forget everything you’ve read
And dance upside down in
The liquid whore house of torture
For a small fee

Sleep is for babies
I drown in the fake fountain
For you must go further than is allowed
You must un-exist
And never come back to sniff
Your carcass
It will be hung in a museum
And darts will be thrown at it.

Eat your mind and spit it up.
Save me a spot
As soon as I can move . . .