My outraged guts

My outraged
guts demand
more junk food
more cheap whisky
to absorb the mucus of
my sorrow
catahrr of my cataleptic
heart oh if only
it could really sleep
perchance to dream
no rub
those new
extra large condoms
fixed that but
still it’s not you
it’s not you
it’s not
crack in my life
the blood seeps out
while the needle skips
and the pieces of vinyl
stab me in the foot when
I stumble to the toilet
bowl again to vomit up
my why why why.

 

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