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SUBSTANCE ABUSE

I am tired of the sanity of taxes,
The dull chat of budgerigars.
I want to step outside the armchair.
I want to fly.

They are housed in these capsules:
The kickstarts of escape.
The pinpricks of parrots,
The compulsivity of colors,
The inner rhythms of the frozen curtains.
I ice one down and swallow.

After the hit goes home
The first half of my name
Feels lighter but short of sunblock.
The music bone plays faster.
By half past coffee
I'm peacock.
The breadcrumbs are glittering
In the ticking of the icecream sun.
The Eiffel Tower is dancing on my toast.

My atoms have escaped legality,
Dismantling death,
Refuting gravity.
I am sliding down the blue toboggan,
Accelerating.

The grit and gravel of meaning
Turn liquid.
Stones forget their foundations.
The hourglass floats.
My face assumes
The dreamy smile of a frog,
Deteriorating.

Dawn is a slab of daylight
Solid as a mortuary.
The gray crow pecks my hair.
My dreams are in remission,
My dandruff slumped
On the broken bedsprings of a frozen reptile.
The banana chastises me,
Ordering impetus,
But my kneecaps are lazy,
Have no mood for marathons.
The ostrich observes me,
Contemptuously.

My hosepipe is incompetent.
Asparagus fingers
Fumble with my water bottle.
The knuckles of the sun
Are cold and painful.
I need an eagle
But can't even hope for a hawk.
A sepia wind
Blows through the hoops of nowhere.
My rust is cold,
My exhaust fumes out of petrol.

By the trash fire
The cheaper things are granted
For a little cash.
Demonized substances:
Grated concrete, varnished broccoli,
Distillates of baby brains
And elbow fluff.
After eating the cathartic peanuts
I forget at least my swollen feet.
But I need more.

The fractured gossip of a stolen needle
Chats to my receptors.
The penguin buys my name
And drinks my blood.

This poem SUBSTANCE ABUSE was first published when posted online by Hugh Cook on 2005 May 15 Sunday. Copyright © 2005 Hugh Cook.

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