the gentrification of my ribcage (tw: drugs, suicide)

achilles achilles achilles

come down

i flip my head inside out,

hairballs of my

ancestors’ blood,

clotted methamphetamine,

or articulated deference,

or love,

raging through the veins of our city

like the beads of a rosary

if your ribs are split at the ends its

because you inhale white noise like an addict,

menthol on the porch for your waterlogged lungs.

if you wrung it, the rivers would overflow,

sin for the ambrosia heads of our babies

ounces of my skin, pounds of my flesh,

for sale at the winter flea this morning,

thigh-deep in bonafide banality,

sell a tooth for a skull,

sell a nail for a skeleton.

settle.