Wednesday, February 29, 2012

14 Miligrams

Fingering furtive,

I eye the striped straw rolling

in the still June night


a perverse stage fright

overcomes thumbs, this is not

a ho-hum feeling,


new ceilings break on

the first inhalation whooshed

loosed on my brain stem,


orange rockets pulled

into pockets patching

the septum reeling,


I wonder if frying

my brain is worth it

as I work the straw,


a pen shakily tumbling

over tense knuckles

like a dancing coin,


I sniff readily

as the pen begins

deadly pirouettes across the page.

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