When the chalice appears outside
of the high all the caffeine is funny,
but damage flowing across
spills from textbooks.
(Schizo gunk from school)
So you’d better agree to no weapons,
ashtrays, reminders of shitcan twiddling.
My sutured signs repealed for
the moment because I’m too down,
but never tired to speak.
I catch myself only with my teeming
carafe, scrawl some problems here
16 hours in, not paying attention.
The aisle mimics a face. So what
if she also likes Kyle
with captions and drama?