Relapse

shiver thin the winter's thievery. give that feeling a name. pray at it.

on the porch you can just make out the corpses of trees waving
their dark fingers as you turn the flame up to make smoke rise
unmetered from the glass.

old ritual you've returned to now you're deconstituted. desperate
little diagram trying to make sense of a man's absence & the hormones
quarreling in the skull.

now there's just a pit in the midst of you & the only thing you can
think to fill it with is dogs but of course you haven't got any left

instead make yourself a blazon scatter of limb & image
& isn't this what you're scared of most to be seen in pieces
to matter then martyr then disappear completely.

& aren't you too old to have a drug problem anyway & aren't
those dogs too pretty & leashed to be stray

the painkillers you brought from california are barking in the cabinet
they sound good together & not so faint as they once did when
all your clothing was folded & sorted by color & maybe this man
really did break your heart & you didn't just use the pit he left
as an onramp back toward oblivion.

driving home you feel the liquor guide your hands through the blood
greedy streets. you feel the pressure in your feet make the car leap
forward as if you owned something. invite any man over
no matter how much he's had to drink

you have a pretty mouth & hair
& eyes & mouth & mouth

whatever happens next
you deserve it