venomous progression

the snake coiled in my gut
has the typical markings
of a Midwestern Heartbreaker
filthy isolation & yearning
no appetite & poor sleep
the mind running over & over
words spoken & unspoken
the extra muscle it takes
to pick up a pen & write
the same trite bullshit
as everyone else who’s had a bite

take me to a bank
with a robbery in progress
i’ll throw myself at the thieves
maybe steal a gun
i’d rather blow my brains out
than eat cheese & crackers again
my wrist looks tender enough
to bite through
with very little effort

people of earth, rejoice
with handles of molson
& cases of labatt
ain’t nobody gonna cry tonight
i’m dry as a fucking bone
i’ve just got the classic symptoms, see
you’ve got me or you got me
or i’m free