I do as I can to avoid drugs
other than those readily
available to me but
tucked away in some sac
Or gland other hidden
wrinkle of the brain.
A perfectly measured dose
triggered by random
but accessible memories,
a passing fragrance
an old photo
a song on the radio
moms cooking
that one shirt.
let those gaps in the brain
be flooded with the
transcendental ambrosia
our flesh has prepared us.
born violently into a violent world
I will teach them to walk
and give them every part of
me so that one day their
legs and hearts will have
the strength to leave me
behind.
They traveled the open oceans by the light of the stars
and despite my path being laid clear
as though Siri was reading me the turn-by-turn
I feel lost.
Just as a stone thrown from the trail
becomes buried among the thicket.
A slight miscalculation is a critical error
when your dreams lay among the stars.
The answer must be somewhere,
In my children’s smile,
In the bottom of an empty bottle,
under the flashing lights of some
dark and dingy back room,
with a fake name and cheap perfume.
Madness is one hell of a drug.
Suburban Youth 