Do you belong to a song? Does it drag you along by the tongue
at the top of your lungs? Are you drunk? Have you been drinking?
Shrill notes begin, the grim violin then from the silence a violence
of sirens orchestrate the score to which one more corpse is left
quiet How we become the hollows of drums the rests between
notes, the hollers that never reach throats "friends" in quotes,
they're not calling. your neon eyes blinking vacancy, baby, baby
hear hear, three cheers for your apathy. So try this trick and spin it,
all the while the world is whirling, the morning tilts closer.

Inches on a map, distance or destiny
will you will, will me away.

-TM