Pins And Needles

I pull the twine
around my wrist
until my hand is dead,
and watch the dark blue
spread all over me
until nothing’s red.

I want more of everything
to be able to justify
my nothingness
to everyone still hovering
between the grocery store
and city bridge where
all of it is cloudy
but connected.

All these people in
their winter coats
afraid of any absence
of their elevator music,
couldn’t stand in line
at shopping malls
without it.

Dead pumpkins like
old faces will get eaten
by the boldest deer
at the perfect point
decay will make it easier.

The answers are self evident
at this point.
Written in fire on the waterway
where mermaids jump through flames
and scream for mercy.

There is no more
and all of it evaporates
to make the river bed
the perfect place
to pitch a tent and wait out
our decisions.

The city just gets bigger
in the worst way
while the window glass’s
luster falls away in a new storm
of old carcinogens.

She’ll take you to her
favorite place,
a smokestack catwalk
no longer in service,
and she will kiss you
while you watch it all,
and wish there was a better way
to be here.