1989

Wake like adrenaline
sharp to the heart
of that infamous
six minute flat-line
needled en route
to the Cedar-Sinai
tumbled back through
the ambulance roof,
reluctant return
into this day.
The ball of my arm-bone
clunks sore in socket
like a glockenspiel bumped
with a fat rattan mallet.
Coke snot and glue eyes
too sick to wash out .
The morning is thick,
providence squirming
wracked with neuralgia.
Dry flakes of homesick
asylum of powders
mixes with nicotine
warm from my fingers
clamors at sink sides
urgent as telegrams.