punctual punch;

I don’t want these feelings to consume me any more than they have

to. Tough love and tougher interpretations, always. I hate having this

memory database hachured with all of these painful things that I

never use for anything, besides maybe role-playing suffocation or

drowning, or insert all the tell-tale examples of how breath gets

swallowed & away from you. These lowly machinations are an

exercise in restraint’s absence, and how I avoid hunger.

Sometimes I forget footprints are shallow because the ground

pushes back against this weight we throw around.

Soft spots filled by bigger gaps, but only in our minds

until we all crater into oblivion.

­

Do I belong on a cat’s tongue

Because of this “backward-facing spine?”

Been doing this since I was young,

I am the sun or son to this pain that’s mine.

­

I’m not sad, I’m just realistic;

the irony of taking the worst of my advice and throwing the scraps

to the birds.

Observing all of this is odious.