today i will stand on the fish

So--Enough!
that my head will not touch my feet before the altar
that there is enough weight in my body to let my mind float

free but not clear
that i am still sick and cannot see
that my job does not understand me not understand my job
that it is friday but not late enough
that i am still me that i am still me that i am
Enough!

i can't create enough paper dolls to fill my day
with paper dresses and paper cars
let's fly paper airplanes to Jersey
and we will be gods for a day
(if we could just get out of Vegas)

i will not get to break today
and i know this is my choice
i cannot write poetry writes me
i don't know if i add to productivity
or just convolute my convulsing friends

i will not stand for this

hey babe, are you still there?
will you look over my shoulder
to hold my hand as i peer through misting eyes
to engage the start button?
will you look over?
I hear half heard beats and rhymes from
somewhere
behind my addiction and there is still a hidden fee
somewhere

why does my liver quaiver at the idea
of getting well enough to stand on the fish
today i will stand on the fish and forget
that your testing eyes
have nothing to do with me