my brother lighting up in the bathroom,
i can smell the junk that's coming out
of his brain. i can feel it saturate,
i can taste the moment when that high
will drop from the face of the earth.

fuck this dream, it was a lie. do you hear?
motherfucker, it was all a lie, and you have been taken.
i can feel you right now and tell that this
is going to lead you like one of your roaches
down the toilet.

I've grown to live with the scent from outside,
two am, the fan is on because it is too hot;


father, i've forgiven you. you were never quite the asshole,
which is usually requisite for these types of things.

it's not a noisy habit, but your
racket is making me lose my focus,

and my temper, among other things.

09/09/2004

Posted on 09/10/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams