like a dunce at the Met
in irreverent awe
i don’t see what you see
and that’s okay with me

i’m a set of chemicals
i’m a lever-bar rat
i live from instinct to instinct
and i’ve grown okay with that

you know it’s for real when
they can’t even pretend
no words of false hope
no attempt to help cope

i guess i wished for this
go back in my poetry
the simplistic ease
of lonely autonomy

here again, i am drowning
water seeks its own level –
calibrate the next dose,
pour a drink for the devil.