laminated soul

it’s tempting to
blame it on
the pissed-off
that linger
about me.

watching you
is like watching a
of a t.v. show
I never liked too
to begin with.

Underground again.

Underground and tired
in that way that
takes a blowtorch
to your bones.

Underground and waiting
too long
too hard
with a head-full of
wounded sharks,

prime to be devoured by their own kind.

On the edge of the track,
it goes black
except the rivets
which are

It’s another invitation,
you just need
to squint
to read it.


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