acquit me already! My morning
is redacting itself from the records
gone brittle in my sterile archive.
The sense of being alive
soon calls on me to attend it
in sickness. I let things go
too far this time, much too far.
I should be throttling a greasy star
and riding it through deep space
to even deeper destitution.
Instead, I have plugs in my ears
to drown the sound of motion
as I recline on pungent leather.