Too Thoughts

It is raining outside, while
I race yellow cornbread crumbs
Down my shirt, onto my plate,
On my lap, on this couch that is warm.

My digestion quakes in its illness, and My mind shakes—shooting adjectives
At the verdant clutter of this room.

I inspect my belly button for decay,
an outie— I’ve been always proud.

Could life be any better
Any more beautiful?

Perhaps gnawing into
Sweet yellow bell pepper.

Or the teenage wont of reversing food
Up my esophagus and burning,
Despite intrepid disinclination.

And too thoughts.

God made all this for a reason?
Today I think seeded a tyros vista.

Forward now to lose my self
In sentimental hope.

So Sweet

That one time was so sweet
A pleasant fitting of pieces.
When it walked itself
That one time it all worked.

This time is not that one time
This is not at all like it.
It isn’t working this time
Something is not right.

I can’t take life like this
If it isn’t like that one time.
This is no good and no fair
Things aught to be different.

Someone messed things up
Things are all against me.
This cometing conniption
Smashed my star to dust.