poem: codeine cough syrup
written: 5:43 p.m. on Tuesday, Apr. 09, 2002

I wrote this after taking the medicine of the same name as this poem and was feeling extremely out of it.

The chair squeaks louder than usual
It's all quieter than usual
Dynamics are without range, or
style, or any form of artistic movement.

and everything sort of crashes
like derelict buildings against
bitumen roads
when earthquakes strike
and chaos break out.

I burn in flame
Fiery inferno of greey tongues
that lick and spit
and destroy
when the sky begins to dance.

Burning, but unscorched;
half-empty, but half-full;
and everything sort of clashes
with the half-lit backdrop
of cars and cities and rapidness,
when everything is beautiful,
but weary,

and this cosmopolitan mess
does not want to be inspired.

I burn
in flames
like hot coals
against the inexperienced feet
and I scald
and wound
and induce blisters.

So bleed yourself dry
for the world.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010