this sordid

 we make our choices

pretending we are the only ones

to be affected by them.

self replicating harm into each new lens

the warp of the plastic cast through 

too much heat. fragile

mini beings in the now i want

love and peace for all of you

but i have my addictions

food of tears, flood of years.

we have turned other pains

into ecstacy. ex stacy i began 

with the thought of her losing a child

to the carelessness of the system

how you wimped on the situation , absurd

verbs explaining the incohate mess of conception

we all become. 

let me give  you an intimate 

tour of my recovery boudior

nicotine yellow walls:4

doors blue:1

doors flamingo:1

windows blinded, curtained in orange: 2

men's wardrobe, art nouveau, brass fittings(unpolished) missing 2 insets 

on the west wall, next to a reclaimed 1940s walnut wardrobe, ambisexual

through the flamingo door is the bathroom containing the usual

but my home has been the toilet.

they say this procedure is very painful but it's not. they put you under, you don't feel a thing

it's the recovery that's the prick in your ass. a hot poker type

the kind that you said no to and 7 days later it's still goin on.

make that 15. a fortnight. but this too shall pass

so even though i've not been working or cooking or taking

care of anything or anybody but myself i still havent wanted to write

because i mean really what good does whining do

it's not even distracting, it's amplifying.

if every thought is a thwarted sensation i'd love to hear 

your rape epiphanies, emil.

they tell me things like addicts are forever.

i'm smoking in the house again and so are you.

xo

xo

yesterday i broke down crying because 

i have to care about your choices because you are an addict

and the boy is not to blame. that my motherhood days

are not over is a complete pissoff to me. i mean i'm stupid 

15 year old mad about it.  that which you resist persists

etc. but i'm kinda positive his mom's never gonna get it together.

her drug of choice is anything. have you met her? have you looked

at her, sitting in jail for something so minor? it's not like you're

a dealer-just a low ball user. sure it was enough to kill you

if you took it all at once but that the beauty it was enough for a week!

the recovery is that painful. dand i don't think you're gonna do it.

you are not strong enough because you really , really don't want to.

after spending five hours with him, you had to take a break in the bathroom.

a li'l  nod out. then arrested the next fucking day, yeah you ain't coming back.

ha ha

i get to be his momma now. how you like that ya cunt?

###

on the south wall, beside the flamingo door

a mid century modern unrestored cabinet in burled wood

sits next to a tall calypso blue and white wicker lingerie chest

upon which a green mid century modern glass jade globed 

reproduction lamp presides over the array of pain

and life sustaining  half- capped  meds.

dresser mirror disconnected from its mate years ago

now mounted over the cabinet needs deep cleaning

antique white of the seventies represent .

some moments the aleve seems to be taking

then i move and it all comes back

so i decide to do a load of wash or get a bowl

of cereal, eat the left over steak. i'm afraid to eat

because that means digestion and elimination

but i don't fast well.