out of a blue glass

i actually take pride in not having good taste
there are days when the finest dishes taste like sawdust
from wormwood forests
there are days when you talk backwards
and swing at ghosts
walking around inside your phantom skull
night will change you completely
right in front of my eyes
cannon fire from hand guns
and automata
chew up everything that gives
open the door
and you're a goner
forever
and yet you never
existed really not
for long
but enough is enough
i drink clear dark liquid blue
out of a blue glass
*