Loosen Up
I always heard that a man
can get used to anything.
That statement isn’t enough
to put me to sleep.
Blue light is a prickly blanket.
I feel the manila envelope
in my pillowcase.
It might as well be made of
warm, dirty, granite.
I can usually ignore all that.
Pretend the river rocks in my throat
don’t bother me.
Tonight’s last straw
came in the shape of Notre Dame
burning under my bed.
Or maybe that’s Al-Aqsa.
No. It’s the new moon.
Craters filled in with napalm.
Fuck this. I stood up
to go grab a sleep aid.
I mixed myself a pint of mud.
Not an ideal cocktail.
The drink started out normal enough.
Vodka and kool aid.
All colors.
It seemed incomplete.
I added dark rum, diet coke,
scotch, formaldehyde,
and a few drops
of Carolina Reaper hot sauce.
I took my concoction
back to bed with me.