Resu(sc)itate

Under cloudless skies of winter

The insects fade. 

In hopes to resuscitate

Come springs winds 

And summer haze. 

I feel the alcohol

Poisoning my veins. 

My lungs collapsing with

Every toke a i take. 

See, I'm just an insect of 

Capitalistic ways. 

Winter's just another

Vicious cycle, waves

Crashing, washing 

it all away. I fade.

I mix two poisons in midst

Of all the commotion

And let out this explosion

Of words i should have never

Said. Via twitter, via vine,

Via text. 

I feed off the cycles of my 

Sneaky ways. 

But soon these clouds will

Precipitate and

"We will all resuscitate". 

Regurgitate. 

Take this moment to reflect 

All that is correct

And erect

From the chair 

You

Are sitting on. 

Insects fade

Hangovers do the same. 

But literature remains

In the trains

Of the cities 

In our brains. 

Those we populate,

And de-populate

On a daily basis. 

On our daily commute

Into the womb of

US of A

Boston, Massachusetts. Junio 2013