In seclusion
Chaquina throws fecal matter at a mirror
And through one brave sliver of light shining into my room
I see a grown woman of fourteen years scare the putrid life out of
A gang of armed guards
Flinging her legs and fists
Across the universe
Hey Doctor
Why are we on lockdown again?
There's no emergency on Ward 7 North
Only dreadful poison oxygen and rage and religion
And nightmare television and poser cronyism
Hey Doctor
Take me fishing
I want to lick hieroglyphic spit formations around your rotator cuff
As tomorrow's sushi machinery breaks down slowly
Violently trashing over your syringe-worthy hands
Over the river gasping
Flailing 'till she utters her last flap
Her final offering to the cold universe
Her magnum opus
Surely she knew her last taste of this precious manic waltz
Was delivered by the hands of a master clinician
A great healer
A true friend
A profoundly sentient aristocrat of unfathomable virtue
Who would k** to taste her flesh
And even graciously allowed my pedestrian hands
To beat my guitar strings
In heretically clumsy syncopation
With the sealing of her fate
Hey Doctor
Let's never do that again
What's up, Doc?
Your heart's been racing all week
Hey Doctor
Do you ever see things that aren't there?
Do you ever feel so lonely that you just want to melt?
Do you wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves you?
I can help with that
Because in droves
Materializing from all directions
Trillions of lost souls in ailing vessels
Made the mighty pilgrimage to this overpriced island
To see you, Doctor
With tumors and compulsions and convulsions
Palpitations and earthquakes and cancers and scurvy and pimples
And pneumonia and amnesia and lyme disease
And endlessly evolving paranoid fantasies
Suicidal heartthrobs
Slain dissidents and slaves
Freakish fetishists and pioneers of abstinence
Motörhead and aliens and absinthe
And the quietest man you've never heard
And Odyssean sirens and awkward blood transfusions
A girl who lies habitually
But sits upright in bed
With boys and wounded vultures
While Williamsburg transplants eat trash to save cash
And one-up the natives below the poverty line
While stingy art professors sell propagandized adolescence
To cults of narcotized codependent students
And some boys on Malcom X Boulevard dream of California
As a lone Grandmaster Flash track cuts through
The midsummer rat piss power drill noisescape
It's like a jungle sometimes
It's like d**h
From the air under the door
Behind you
Behind your office
Doctor
He's dead
He's whining outside your office
Doctor
He's d**h
He's waiting, and
He brought everybody
Everybody he could take
Everybody he brought he brought with him everybody came
Doctor
They're waiting outside
They all came to see you
That's what you wanted, right?
Hey Doctor
I'm concerned
Your blood pressure is alarmingly high today
And your face is so pale
I can see the imploding remnants of your fragile mutant ego
Falling through your legs and the floorboards into the sewer
Around the co*kroach colonies
Decomposing in a vicious airborne fetal devolution scum dance
Before the eyes of rats and reptiles
I can see your first and final teardrop sliding around your face
Along the side of your nose
That teardrop knows it'll hit the floor without a sound
Its purpose served within a matter of seconds
Hey Doctor
The people will see you now