You junk a plug in
Your skull and blow yourself. Good
Someone knows your vote.
You swing a cord up
On the high joist and dangle,
Patience as end play.
You screw off the lid
From a canister of bleach,
Glug, wretch, palpitate.
You stare at a screen,
Resolve yourself into its
Creditations: bliss.
(David McLintock)