Fluorescent gods
and jugular birth control-
life control
make me forget how my skin looks
under the sun-
light.
And I have hollow bones like a bird (that cannot fly)
folds of my pupa mucus glue cancer
undulating within them.
Weighing me down.
Teaching me what it is to fear
death
pain
and the beautiful long red hair in the drain of my shower.
I suckle my surrogate needle mother bladder bag IV filth-
life-giving nuclear waste.
Cords and tubes and malignant strands
entangle my mind;
break their radiation chains and seal my mouth.
cannot speak
cannot breathe
in the dark
by myself.
Make me love my lightbulb God.
Practical Blasphemy: 