Crank (Crank 1)

Somewhere on my stroll

with the monster,

I’d lost these things.

Feeling Good

became a matter of scale.

One to ten,

“ten” being one step shy

of shredding the time-space continuum,

“one” being ten steps shy

of dropping flat in my tracks.

Every increment

required meth or more meth.

I didn’t have to go all

the way up, but up,

I did need to go.

After a while, even high,

I could almost

make believe food

didn’t taste like cardboard,

almost float

down into REM sleep,

almost function

the next day,

almost look forward to my

almost 17th birthday.

I Would Celebrate Several Ways

One with my family. My mid-October

birthday always meant a

trip to San Francisco to play tourist

on Fisherman’s Wharf, scarf