i survived

and saturn retains his status, for another billion years, and

i survived
i still have my skin, and some muddled feelings within
feelings that feel dry, like this dibet in the cycle, the fecal matter
has decayed, not that that matters, nudge, and the energy coming down the pike
will make fecal regal for fuck'nArights, but you can't copy it, and you won't, cause i'll oversee all processes

and since this is a chemical dump, i will say
it's been a long time since cannabinol hit my brain, one of those walks in the jungle to catch a patch of desert, it's dry and i'm high, but i try
with every fiber to sanitize death, and anaesthetize plain treasures

and relapse is ridiculous, and sobriety is stupid
and saturn reigns, retains, remains, relays, with rings

this will be another dramamine night
it's actually diphenhydramine, which sounds more like delirium
and appropriately more like dirty sleep, illicit and unconscious
but not un enough to cleanse the soul, no, there's things that stick
above the cellular level

this wasn't a night for needles, and it's already in the past tense
drink the tapwater, it is pure and it is good
and i will re iterate, it is good and it is pure
washing down a sleeping pill

self-analytical torpor
an external analyzer said
and while i could pretend it's about someone else
- a chosen one, to throw the rest of you into relief
or the select of you, those i choose, but pretend you never knew me -
i would be throwing my voice
and i'd rather choke on the here and now
cause that's all i know now, as far as
i’ve knit, if i knew that which i didn’t
only flava, ah, aah? aaaaah? nah
flavour, i'll surmise in supposition

hey, it's like those old wet times when i thought i was king of the world
a cock in a pussy
taste, flava, flow
and an orgasm on my own time
i let a few cool folks know
and some folks that shouldn't know

and then there are those who left me in the front room of a latimer street house
in a home hardware bag
yeah, bagged, i'm bagged, it's true
that person is bagged