On the train
Anxiety kicking my ass. Again.
Later departure than I’d hoped for
Positivity Wrench Monkey’d, Mucked, and Fucked up my plan, my day
That’s what I get for being a chaotic element
In choosing my periodical number
I set my atomic weight
I’m sealed in
Lead-Lined handling required
I’m an unstable Isotope
I’m bound to rub off on you
Modify and malign you to the bone
In your chromosomes
And once I’m there, I’m there
But never when you want
Never on schedule
And you won’t see me coming
Without the proper equipment
So, call the Liquidators
Shoot the dog
And bury me in my concrete sarcophagus

About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook:
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized, Written, Written Work and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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