So What You Chasing At 4 A.M., Anyway?

If you knew how long I've agonized over a line
would you heckle? Would you understand? The symptoms
come in the form of ashen
fingers, the slouch in my spine, the florid flush
of my face
all come courtesy of the
very
next
word.

Words have curves
and are only bitchy
if used poorly.

Maybe that last stanza's
telling me something.

So I go to the dictionary
cross out every fifth word
and replace
write words backwards
in French, in the characters
of the original Chinese
and the scrawl seems so nonsensically
gorgeous I know
undoubtedly
that, man, do I need sleep.

More telling than an athlete dying young;
a guy with a pen growing old.