for Mike Doughty
have you learned by now
that the twists and grooves
of a certain mindshape
slip gently into abstract curls
of language, of melody
of voice
when they elaborate at length
you saved my life in 2007
so graceless, your grace
you must know
the liquid tangles of wiring
pore over your metaphor
to find an opening
the shock of recognition
tines connecting
to twinned plastic orifices
this electricity bends to addiction
addiction to displacement
they find their home
on a map you drew
sound the alarm at planted flags
of course your inner self
is your most valuable possession
these blackeyed slackjawed grins
beg to claim as their own
clamoring for a slice of soul
as if they’d take your skin
if they just had a knife
there was a time when i fell
and fell into the kind of dark
where a good old na na na
splits the life/death difference
but our hearts grow and learn
forgive me
you knew not what you said
here — a shoebox taped shut firm
and wildly addressed to the void
contents: all the pieces
i once tried to take
returned, with my regrets
i have no claim to stake
mattress dungeon 