Tonight I'm coming home in a coma if it fucking kills me. Listless but
relieved, beaming like a newborn hostage. Orphaned by an ambulance. I got
this new black eye just for you. Your hopeless romantic now helplessly
rheumatic. Poets grinding teeth to powder. All my vowels are getting lost in
the gauze. Misinterpret courting for the cursing of a drooling fool. Here's
to cheap sex and codeine in a hospital bed. And maybe I'd object, if I felt
at all alive. Everybody is dying to lay down with you. I got the order all
wrong. I must have bumped my head. Maybe I should quiet down. Don't bet on
another blackout. I'll be all right. There's an army at my window waiting to
lose this fight. I'm the king of this all night clinic. The fucking
champion. Tonight we'll feast like royalty in traction; happy and
meticulous. There's a delicate love song in this; kicked out and dripping in
verse. Go get your gun because God won't show. He sent a poet instead. The
Don Quixote of the ICU. Quite impressive for a cripple. Munchausen by proxy
of a muse. Tempt not a desperate man. This split lip is for you. I traded it
for an outdated tooth.
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