Pausing for coffee

Why ask me?
I don’t know
don’t understand,
don’t want to go
away from the hand
I bite.

feed me more and I might.

I love it though
the ebb and the high,
the glow when you
catch the
sky on fire.

Desire,
wire me some.

Freedom from the mundane
is just the same as the mundane
only different,
the black hole’s still there
the
noose is where I left it.

The states of ecstasy
Islands in a Southern sea
reefs within me and
I’m shipwrecked on a lee
tide,

the cyanide lied and only made me sick,
I could pick up some more but
what the hell would I do that for?

I’ll commit Hari Krishna,
or Origami
or Suki Yaki,
back me into any corner and
I speak several languages
effluently.

Priceless almost always costs more.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.