the pine belt.
nothing here is healthy.
the south is testing my patience.
making me braindead.
screeching sea gulls and the gnats
come around
bombarding me with asinine conversation
and constant petty squabbles.
this pick-pocket, robbing me even of sleep
with its hot days and night jobs.
i need that unconsciousness
to alleviate my illnesses
the dull aches and pains
and i suppose these social ailments are everywhere
the most unhealthy one is me
and i have a feeling
the moment i can take no more
when the gun is to the temple
one second before the pull of a trigger
i can finally leave.