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