Storm Surgery

shacked up like a war wound. eyelids heavy, brain is de-tuned. legs thrown around. oblivious to sound. run my tongue around this cracking mouth, backwards cite the hippocratic oath. i think something's gone wrong here. the television's attack is relentless. smiling, grinning war-profiteers. the coverage is twenty-four seven. i'm spent, miss. take my deadpan away for wiretaps. don't know what to say so i'll excrete higher maps to nothing they want to find anyway. and i'm starting to get resigned to this confusion. to this pollution. the tv's relentless, and hey, miss, i'm spent, miss. the wires fester from my sweaty skin. fall alive and then get dead again. time means nothing these days, these ways i'm falling. the phone's off the hook from relatives calling. they can hear my head whisper so i chose to de-list her. my body's a levee and i can feel her breaking. my eyelids are heavy and won't someone please stop the shaking? shacked up like a war wound, close my mind and let myself be fed-spooned. okay computer.