.

In Review

A fire has taken plank in the old side of my brain.
I step out onto the board and review
the past year
while sucking on ginger root.

If only last gasp confidence
was a rat trap, if only
the scarf you handed to me was mine.

Yet the subtle puncture wound
which took over while my own
canine chewed

still felt the entirety of nonsense,
the remedial identity I
have been turned into:

A woman that feeds
your hungry imagination
the one desperate not to be buried
underneath more piss beer.

Let me out! I am trapped in a cast.
I slyly rumble out of sinister
misgivings, coffee, cigarettes
swollen lymph nodes

I stare at the rusty robots
painted orange, white, black
and they move on wheels
while you sit, stand,
lay and screw another
drunk, drunk, screwy drunk girl
who just bought a new designer
scarf