blue balloon

i woke up tonight thinking again
not about anything specific like a person or honey stars
but just thinking and sinking,
do you get that feeling too

when you wake up not knowing what woke you and still
a firm glove grips your heart and pulls it into gravity
you want to shake it off so you get out your sword
and pierce deep into the pump
awakening the numb
hoping against all that the evil will bubble out into
a nice shape on the floor you can see and mess over
like writing in puke putrid vomit, hah
like building a castle in splinters
you want to make, create, but your mind's a child
some say that's when the best art is formed
but you know better
abstractness is, pure gibberish.

yes you know better than to fall for that
but, if it moves millions he says, try and be moved
just so you can figure out
maybe half the world's population
like it matters
and the glove comes at me, and i duck
a nonbeliever running from a nonbelief
is that abstract art or what
but really, whatever it is it weighs on me
as i writhe in awkward shapes on the floor
in the food i ate that pleased me in the morn (but not so much now)
the thing- it wraps around everything
flowing and trapping
i'm thinking and sinking-