It was worse when he was drunk
Living in constant panic
Something bad always waiting
Hidden behind corners, in shadow
The unseen, damage, the unknowable
Waking to the stale piss smell
Of another morning thinking
"My god, what happened last night?"
The visceral gut-wrenching truth
Hitting him over coffee: He didn't know
That was when he got the fear
It started in the base of his spine
Slowly making him paraplegic
So that anyone might break in
And thrash him like a rag doll
But there were worse things out there
Yellow teeth filed to needle points
Finger nails shaped like talons
The fat blind ginger-haired boy
Body parts in his laundry bag
The badness crowded him in
Like a kids birthday party at McDonalds
And the clowns, Oh the clowns
Everywhere leering laughing clowns
like human totems to terror
That was why he quit the drink
Went cold turkey, shivering, hallucinating
Looked horror in its black shiny mouth
Now things were meant to be better
But the past had stuck to him
Like shit to a pure wool blanket
Good things come to those who wait
Bad things come to those who try to escape
© shaun patrick green 2013
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