ANTI-DEPRESSANTS

WHEN ALL MY FRIEND'S BANDS WERE GETTING SIGNED, I WAS TAKING ANTI-DEPRESSANTS AND READING CAMUS, DOSTOYEVSKY AND SARTRE          
(Soundtrack: Mewithoutyou, "January 1979", Catch Us For The Foxes)


         She's the maintenance drinker & I'm under quarantine. Holding my ears like I am seven, her cosmetically enhanced, ruby-stained lips smeared as she stumbles into the room spinning in circles, the cordless phone smeared with generic makeup and tears. Tired from sixty second inflatable air mattress rest, towels as blankets, clothing peppered over my cold body, empty room, empty house, MDMA holes in my brain, neurological pinpricks, nervous system flamenco hash cigarettes, black coffee cream cannabis cafe nursery grow lights Colombian concoctions to deter defoliants. Prohibition lasted fourteen years and she won’t last another ten. Tranquilized sounds pan off into last year’s moonlight, guilt as a carcinogen, gasoline firework spiders erupt over the sleeping cityscape. I'll disembark over London or Madrid or Sydney or purgatory. I'll never touch another drink or pharmaceutical again, and my spirit will erupt over 9-to-5 nicotine breath cadavers on the last bullet train to MTV Armageddon.
         Because I lost my soul in suburbia only to find I had the soul of a hundred men, and every one of those lives will amplify when I'm on that stage again in a fury of swinging instruments, shredded vocal chords, energy drink adrenaline, broken microphone stands and orphaned teens in love.
         (The ultrasound magnetic resonance imaging report: the boy let depression block his arteries.)