I carry my anxiety
in my jaw.
I am waiting
for the kettle to boil.
Isn't life is just a mix of wet joy
and dry sorrow?
My jaw is killing me
because of chewy, muddy life.
The kettle is taking forever
to whistle.
Reading Malone Dies by Beckett
is my Sunday school.
There are always alternatives
to existence.
Leonard Cohen might make you feel better,
but his songs mostly make you feel welcomely worse.