It's when he's quiet
he's most likely
to strike, biting himself, a crude form of
rumination *qua* ruination. So says his
'book, ' the same
proclaiming 'mind of an 8-yr-old'
('Me forty-four, ' he rebuts, helpfully) .
Forbidden
to sleep off lazy Sundays and
gray Mondays alike, so as to
Facilitate
his nightly rest and recharge
The steady,
grinding
rhythm of
acceptable behavior, keeping
him alive
enough to wish he were
dead, drug-induced
dreams of
motocross
