Poem of the Day 02.04.09

so sick

it feels like there
is a bubble in my stomach
waiting to burst
and the snow and ice
look like sheets
of fondant on the lawns
of america
but i can’t sit still
and i have the shits
and they are brown rivers of disgust
coming out of my soul
coming out of my ass
i can’t think of food or joy
or anything
two days of this
in the dead winter
and i feel dirty
and worse than i have in years
the closets are stocked
with food that i don’t want to eat
and there are bottles of wine
that i’m too sick to drink
everything burns my stomach
all i can think about
is shitting and sleep
and standing up to vomit
all over the mess
tasting the bile
and when will this winter end
when will this sickness end
when will the snow and ice
melt on the lawns
exposing brown grass
and the new season.
this is as optimistic as i can get
sitting here
waiting for the next gastric rush
the deluge
the purge
another snowfall to come
and coat the lawns
like powdered sugar so sweet
i can already feel my teeth
begin to rot