Motorcade/Fragments

The taste of metal
In my mouth.
Throat constricting;
You unzipped my pants
And kissed my star.
Blurry vision of crawling spider.
A field of never ending atrocities.
Black box recording of altitude drop.
Motorcade of death.
Pieces of brain and innocence
Blown away.
Crayon scrawled picture of happy family.
Faceless nation
Of disfigured monkeys.
Humming machine
Malfunctioning at unknown rates.
The flag flies half-mast today
And upside down.
I woke up afraid last night:
Am I insane?
Or just a genius?
And are you still watching
Lee Harvey Oswald?
Press play and wait.

I’m writing to bring silence
To the ache
That my head has become.
I’d compose symphonies
In your name
If I could.

Metamorphosis on a molecular level.
Have another drink,
50 more can’t hurt.
Stuffed animal autopsy;
Surgically precise but tainted.
Speak to me in an alien language.
Shunted right off the track.
I always pick the scab.

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