Christmas tree lights in my head
Perched to be exploited…
Balloon with the air let out
Hissing all the time… because it whines
The inferno in me wants me to burn
Because it feels right
Christmas trees lit are under pressure—they know if they dry up the whole building will be in flames
So you have to be festive when you decorate—and avant-garde with who you decorate with
Maximalist at heart with pleasure
Nomads tend to wander to find a better part of the steppe
With a phallus as a Swiss Army Knife,
Paddling in northern China building a trench
22 year old Midwesterner with psychosis looking for a frigate to save him from the deep end
Impulsivity a catalyst for losing everything
I don’t care if you’re married, if you have a tunnel you can help me in the trench
Two staged rocket—
Already psychotic
Be a launchpad
So I can get even further from earth
Ripple through the galaxy like I got a mission—
Even if it’s delusional
Another N1
Get myself on disconnect in the vacuum
Even if I come down Iike napalm.
Raymond Hoffman has a background in political science and Southeast Asian Studies. He has taught in China for many years and currently is a fifth grade teacher in the Midwest. Poetry writing has been used by him as a coping mechanism for bipolar disorder for over a decade now. Sylvia Plath has always been a great source of inspiration, as has been Albert Camus. He has previously been published in the Sad Girls Club literary blog, Beyond Words Literacy Magazine, and Cathexis Northwest Press.
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