Phineaus the Hypochondriac

Phineaus the Hypochondriac

Gage was skullfucked by a spike
running the length of
a would-be double chin
up through to
his forehead.

That was in 18__.

An accident at a mining explosion.

He used to be responsible
judgmental
calm
courteous

Now he’s flaky
angry-go-lucky
mercury
pissed

He never cussed; Now:
Cunt, fuck, shit, and whore are sandwiched between
syllables.
the way
Cunts, motherfuckers, shitbags, and whores litter
the streets

He used to shave, brush his teeth, make eyes with himself
in the mirror.
Now he admires his crater
on his bald spot
left front and center

And his breath smells like angry onions.

Phineaus used to have plans
Now he never knows where he is going
what he is supposed to be doing
why

Like
The tetrahedron that was ambition, desire, stick-to-itiveness, esteem
have muddied
the melt off
slurry
of icecaps

Unfocused desire is
bad virtue
too many dreams
laxative realities

missing the wasteland
for all the rotten stumps

There are people who drank so much
they can’t tell you what day it is
after you told them just seconds ago.
they have bleeding thalamus’s on their shoulders

Phineaus Gage had his
excuse.
They’ve got theirs.
What the fuck happened to me?