Take/Pills

Boy oh boy, again, reeling it in, writhing, feeling the after shock like a band-aid being ripped off the top of your leg, where it's un-shaved and sensitive. Keeping all the coin, pulling the tape off your pockets, watching the shock drain from the wall, as the bills go unpaid. Our poor ribs shiver, reaching out like ferns to sun, to sin instead. God we're willing, all too willing to pitch in and put out, if it kicks it kicks, and it's worth the dime. But our beds got blue, and there's a dent in the couch where I used to be. Just a candle full of cigarette butts where once there was a patio. We'll clean when we can stand, and the gas alarm shuts off. Is that why we're so dizzy? Are we drinking in the garden again? Guarding our gory insides, holding them in with poly-vinyl gloves? We're fat with hate and thin with money; give us shelter, give us meat, give us kettles, soap, and steady hands.