carousel

crossed over for awhile
black, this spit
swimming in debonair disease
coughing up choking up
time
passing time
wind
passing out
did that again
deplorable
sat stone cold
austere
staring, sombre light flickers
fickle flame flickers
that afformentioned sickness
lay down in a weeks worth of garbage
inhaling plastics
rolling around in dried up oatmeal
and half torn cigarettes
beats my last ride on the five cent
carousel
down there by the lake
in the molten core of some brain
lively that brain
thinking
thinking about pots pans
microwaves printers
pictures scattered about
those thoughts
all scattered about
on and on without words
letters sure, pattering like a typewriter
on and on
ticking until
that molten core
hot steaming hot
midnight train
finds its ebullition somewhere
at 25 degrees celcius