A refusal:
burnt and grounded,
blunt, unfounded, to set
aggression alight.
Breakfast is deserved.

Are you going to
bring it back to the kitchen
before you dismantle your nearest orifice of
all bored holes;
burrowing bacteria in those empty sockets?

After last week’s surgery, it’s
best we
buy our deaths from the government.
Accepted, though only apathetically, amazingly.
But still, we stopped at a Wendy’s

afterward, and I was still doped – the fuck up – on opioid
bullets, shot up with
breathless abandon
amiss of any hazard insurance. A
brilliant oversight.

Better a Dr. Pepper to coat it too,
along with acid, a
botched,
boorish
abortion, to term.

– Meredith Davidson