To extend life
is to multiply death,
he postured his Guinness
in front of his lips,
but did not sip.
You don’t sleep do you?
It goes unnoticed though
like your contempt for food
and conversation.
You sit here sober
but see a different room,
only you hear the rats,
their disease infecting
shadows, scattering scared
through the walls.
In your nips of dream
you’re catatonic
in silent coma,
skin grey like the fog,
serpents eat monkeys as
you walk uneven stairs
to a granite landing,
the moon is the
color of lava,
the sun in your belly
burns your eyes,
reddens the night,
jeopardizes the stars.
