Regime

Chili leaks all over the seat,
failing to save itself
for a more opportune moment.
At times I’ll see that incontinence
and laugh, comforted
by my own relative regularity.

But when the cowbell strikes 10PM
and you’re losing your marbles
at a steady rate, none of these things
matter anymore. All you can do is
gesture wildly at the skies
with the hope of retrieving
that golden beacon of self-doubt
from the prickly impersonator of human emotion.

He’s been around a long time,
a real long time (if you want to get technical).
His name is inconsequential, for
one must only conjure his essence
to perpetuate his unholy regime.

Attention Hogs

Twittering smitters
done tapped out
onto my tarmac

while I had
the marbles cooling
and the pink daffodils
yearning for something
like the Sun (though
the Moon would
have to suffice).

They’re just sitting there
like a bunch of lawn
ornaments, like I’m supposed
to gawp at them and guffaw
in awe. You can forget it,

I won’t even
let them know
that I know
they’re here.
Attention hogs.