the last of anything

would this dizzy mean
i stroke out it would be okay.
you left, in pieces at a time,
i filled them in with watercolor
and india ink till i ran out
completely. now the gaps
prove too wide to jump
so i take the meds, do the daily slave.

i don't want to take care of anyone
i want to be the one accepting charity.
but that's bullshit. i miss my friends
but not enough to do something about it.
i saw the darkest spots and couldn't make
enough light to quench them.


so move on. stasis in the bed
leads to stasis in the head.
i don't want to be stuck here
in this tunnel with a light on either side of me.
chose and go.

it was for laughter, if you have to ask.
cynical schaden froid.( not accruatly spelled/
but never mind. i can deal with the typos.)
twas for your pleasure my lords and ladies for yours
but not mine . when you had us meet thirty years
too late, full of moth eaten dreams, empty of grace
transposing the typical cliche by switching gender
i bet the movie makes decazillions in your land
just cuz it's a bit twisted and she  has not figured it out/
dancing with jiggly thighs, pocketing sweaty bux
to feed addictions she uses to excuse not
becoming homeless. truth is, i am too cowarded
by hunger or dirt matted between my toes to do it.
 i like my hot showers she tells him when he brings her revolution
i like my packaged meat and gluten free shampoo.
i like vaseline on the lens and pictures viewed
fin the vast future where sounds and motion
are wrongly extrapolated from the smiling faces
to mean good times, no worries, the guns
in the background haven't fired so they never did
even though the schoolyard is silent with corpses.
how to do joy among them? i can't say, but i know
we'll find a way, or die trying.