Zedoary

the numbers are up
and cartwheels
are being turned
your celebratory
Soduku game
of my life
means shit to me
when shit
yippee
fucking
skippy
is all i feel

i call Sylvia
"Hey Jupiter,
nothing's still the same"
but no one's picking
up the phone
and no one answers

(wondering
if cheese sandwiches
duct tape
and an upiloted
500 degrees
would not be
more gratifying)

you can have my crown
my thorns
my sword
my shield
my warm fuzzy
costume
and rabbit ears
tired of it all

i just want to sleep
on my bed of nails
and martyred status