Pile Driver

2 minute read

I am a twenty two year old reservoir
Ready to cave in
Like a suicidal blood clot
I put my name in the goblet
For a space program
I know there is no returning from
My chest
Feels heavy and empty at the same time
Like a school bus in a ghost town
If depression and suicidal thoughts were parallel lines
They intersect
On the palm of my hand
I will make a bad delivery guy
Because I am a sucker
For breakdowns
Like Walter Benjamin on his last trek
I barely keep myself together
A man’s bare body post postmortem
I am the ash
At the end of the crash
Running a marathon with a walking stick
A first responder
Who has lung cancer
With government sleeping on the compensation check
If an item at a store says
If you break it, you buy it
I break it
A hopeless mountaineer buried in avalanche
Sisyphus, zero
Boulder, won
I have regrets
But the radio operators do not understand
The remorse code
My search party had no volunteers
But when I tied a rock around my ankle
They helped me drag it to the lake


Epilogue

Part I

A pirate
Who sleepwalks
With a chainsaw
Inside a cell
A yard bird
Swallowing fuck yous
And say aye instead
Lie instead
A bard
Bleating for help
Bleeding for help
But word to the wise
(shhheep)
It will never be heard
Because the villagers have trust issues
After a shepherd cried wolf
Until the real one arrived

Part II

A decaying talented tail-ender
I compose in my sleepwalk
Like a kitchen compost
My imagination is fertile
Overflowing bile
I take liver medicines for dinner
A sinner
Wearing a wooden collar
Pouring wine to the sailors
And sleeping in the cellar
Dreaming of a crash
So the sheep can escape
Graze against the dying of the light
The pirate can always
Blame it on the shipwreck
And hide the chainsaw
Inside one of the wine barrels
Lamb to the slaughter, bitch
Except the lamb is free
And the pirate
Can finally compose
Finally compost
Without bleeding

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