baby

you awake and wonder how much more you can take

as your hands shake and the shit inside the oven

of your stomach begins to bake

but comes out medium-rare

at best.

a throbbing and palpitation in your chest.

a striped and dirty vintage vest;

just a big well-dressed mess

who can hardly talk, who is

going to walk

to the liquor store

any second now and buy whatever you can afford.

thinking of mt. rushmore

you almost begin vomiting

at the arrogance

of everything;

this so-called "monument" is simply creepy

and a great big testament to the absurdity

of modern-history.

you bend your knees,

double-check to make sure you are wearing

every item of clothing deemed

respectable in this community;

you finger your keys in your pocket,

then open your wallet to guarantee

you have your ID

because even though you are 23

(feeling like 80) you look like

(and act like) a baby.