Shrunk
My first name is a random set of numbers and letters
and other alphanumerics that changes hourly forever
My last name, a thousand vowels fading down a sinkhole to a susurrus,
couldn't just be John Doe or Bingo
My address, a made-up language written out in living glyphs lifted
from demonic literature and religious text
Telephone uncovered by purveyors of the ouija, then checked against the CBGB women's room graffiti
My social a sudoku
My age is obscure
My in-case-of-emergency is in the daisies chasing birds
Employed by trillionaires with perfect teeth and pores
and people who open doors for the people who open doors
My medical history is a course at SUNY Buffalo
Charlatan psychiatry and troubleshooting undertow
Nervous in the service still
I'm burger meat and purple pills, here
Thank you we'll call your name
Sure you will
Skipped lunch, I'm shrunk
You pack up all your manias
You're sitting in the waiting room
You're dreaming of arcadia, you're feeling like a baby tooth
Awaiting panacea, channeling your inner Beowulf
In purgatory just before you pay up to filet yourself and others
In the name of help, coal on a conveyor belt
Into ego death alone, no telephone from Gabriel
I'm half a human combing over home and garden stoned
Go chains over turtleneck, cigars over cologne
A thousand shitty paintings wrap around the wounded animal
Woo him with the Schubert he's a future human cannonball
Little fuckers fighting, mother hiding in her Hulu
I'm climbing up the stucco
Let's get to the seppuku, uh-oh
That pretty penny turn the prickly into Benji
If you save up all your winnings then you get to count your blessings
I finally crunch the budget up and punch the button
She called my name out and pushed me into an oven
The fuck, I'm shrunk
She says, I'm not your enemy
I said, that sounds like something that my enemy would say
Instead of playing off the chemistry she said, you're being difficult
I said, I'm being guarded, you're a quarter mil in debt, I get more guidance from my barber
Look, I'm not good at this, I grew up in a noogie-fest
You built your walls up high or say goodbye to all your Cookie Puss
Here's one every time my telephone buzzes, I see images of hooded riders setting fire to hundreds
She said, when you start getting all expressive
and symbolic, it's impossible to actualize an honest diagnostic
I said, when you start getting all exact and algebraic
I'm reminded it's a racket, not a rehabilitation okay
Agree to disagree as grown-ups from opposing clans
Honoring the push and pull, I should have called the Scholomance
Oh well, preservation is a doozie
Will you be needing another appointment?
Absolutely
I'm shrunk
Autor(es): IAN MATTHIAS BAVITZ