smokerings

The fifty buck joyless
cold lemonade and a battered
old textbook will do.
And I'll have a side serving of
life, with that, thank you.
Carry spare change, carry lots
of distractions that you can
reach into a sack and pull out of.
Building close ties with all the
people inside my head-
head on, bouncing, beautiful,
joyless.
Satiation, it seems
is too much effort.
Perpetual hunger will keep you on your feet
pushing, stretching, aspiring
to make it through, make it through.

I worship the clock.
But this class isn't over yet.
(can you whisper nicotine and crawl into my veins?)
I have the blueprints here, if you want to
make your machine and fly away.

My world twitches, manically,
As if electrocuted.
(Dragonflies skim the surface of the pond
but only long enough to outstrip their
reflections.)
I digress. The glass sweats.

Im going to smile for you, now, and i want
you to take a picture of me.