Friday, February 4, 2011


every day
sunlight pressing against window
at top of wall
(too high to see out)
never penetrating
(no golden shaft, heavy and hazy with dust;
i will die of rickets in here).
at this point i'm certain
i've lost my mind.

shoulders slouch.
head hangs
turns when forced
in response to a cough, a knock
rotates on creaky hinge
rusted joint
piece of forgotten equipment
battered by extremes.
(what if i smashed face into desk,
drove nose bone into brain.)
skin is slack, falling off face.
mouth hangs open
releases indifferent string of vowels
and occasionally: "fuck."

lunch pulled from plastic bag
corporate-mandated portions
250 calories
devoured facing forward
six browser windows open.

eyes bloodshot
always bloodshot
ten hours sleep, still
lifeless glass doll eyes
popped out
new ones snapped in
still bloodshot.

weight is dead
and cold.
every nerve
in body, pinched.

stay the fuck young.
drive too fast into sunset
arm out window
cool air conducting tiny hairs --
electric body singing 
horizon spitting pink, purple, orange
covering you in luminescent fibers.

avoid coming back 
for as long as you can.


wiredwriter said...

yes fuck yes. the last lines are most excellent. stay the fuck young.

Jane said...

oh yes. Love the last two stanzas and the line about smashing the face into the desk.