off his rocker
where he’d spent his silence yesterday –
seeking soothing swaying rhythms
none of which, he knew, today
the tumult or allay
his sense that everything inanimate
and animate now held a grudge
against his skin’s existence.
He knew exactly what had happened.Yesterday God had fellated him
and drained his juice
and baited him and rained a sluice
vitriol which poisoned
all and left him here, on some now
where silence was the only hope.
He’d try to cope.