“Did you ever wake up to find
A day that broke up your mind
Destroyed your notion of circular time”

-M. Jagger, K. Richards

she runs up the stairs
retreating to her office
after dinner
afraid to drink the water
which may or may not
contain a death plume
emanating from a rich man’s pocket
along the elk river

slamming a rolling stones cd in a stereo
to hear sway
then presses her spine against the locked door
so violently the door knob eats her kidney

ice and snow covering all reality
even the inside of the television
weary of real and synthetic
human suffering

celebrities are the rhinestones
who bedazzle a pile of human excrement

a letter on the table says
her rare native american genetic type
is a bone marrow match that could end someone’s suffering
but they don’t know how recently she’s been
to the sickened shores of new jersey

something will soon blow up in russia
she thinks
and her boss will be too far away
to take any of the shrapnel to the face

her poetry is pissing blood

and the suburbs are a carcinogen
killing us all too slowly