Twice daily I talk with

synaptic clefts, with or after meals

we take long walks

in the blister-pack twilight
In my unipolar moments

I write the lovely darkness

lend me your pistols for

the journey, I am about to unmake
How do you feel in yourself about

bathroom scales

and guilty emissions when

all pleasure fails
Maniacal, melancholic and epileptic

are the affections of spring

we must purge them

freely

      downward