1 a.m. monday night
and i'm enveloped in silence
like the first snow of december
when all sound is absorbed
and all light reflected
the world is at rest, cocooned and safe
while my 0-to-60-in-8-seconds brain keeps me up.
shall i take more pills
should i pour another gin-and-tonic
i'm out of the good stuff
and down to over-the-counter self-medication
and it's all so much trifling
the messing with my head
and chemicals - sardonic and ineffective
snake oil pills and so much drivel
while the moon moves over me and laughs at my restlessness

4 a.m. monday night
and my bloated sister of a satellite is gone
even she has hit the sack
and given up on her mockery for tonight
the world is comatose, deep and safe
and the ocean of indigo, indignant,
bids me nearer
as the waves find their voices
fingers pulling, mouths to kiss
as the waves find their bodies
to wrap me up, folding me like blankets
0 to 60. i've been there many times
where you throw back your head and say,
yeah, this is good stuff
good stuff.
and i wonder, sometimes, if i'm crazy

6 a.m. tuesday morning, officially
i've seen this revolution too many times
the birds awaken first, then the bathroom lights come on
you can see the shadows, stumbling, bumping, lost
as they shrug off the jetlag of their travels to Nod
and my speedracer brain finally begins to slow
just as i need it to start revving.
maybe speedracer is the revolution;
maybe my brain hates me for what i've made it do.
you can tell, sometimes, how the sun hits a person's eye
whether they're stable or about to go postal
and i wonder what people see when they look at me
am i the good stuff
or am i mixed with ceiling plaster
am i the good stuff
or will i cause seizures and strokes
am i the good stuff?
am i the good stuff.

Did a gift exchange with friends last night. For some reason they always give me sex toys... and this wasn't even one of THOSE kinds of parties with THOSE kinds of friends!

If you remember the vibrating bondage duck that's made thrilling appearances at FlipSide the last two years - these same ultra-suburban types gave him to me, as well.

Is this thing on? Testing, 1...2...

Right. Well, here's a poemy thing then.

---

i am the storm upon your water
i'm the fire in your fields
the boat upon the River Styx
where every human spirit yields

i am She, and i'll do
anything it takes to see you broken-hearted
and if you think you're lonely now, then babe
just wait 'til i get started