San Diego Reader

During December flying through frozen air my heart beating faster than humming birds and race car engines

I have 10 senses and 8 are broken I wash my own laundry in a basket in the shower With bleach Tired Desperately needing a drink And a lawyer I have a body like a wash-up face like a failed actor I sing love songs And carry a blade sharp enough to cut through the curtains of Reality

I would rather die than cry about it I can't stand lies so I don't live with them My head hangs high in the heavens and I want to scream at its Inhabitants Like the last breath of a love martyr Hung for treason and bad taste in women But I am bigger than the ocean