Dear Delirium

Dear Delirium,...

  Dear delirium, you are no longer that waning image I'd once in childhood knew, & so holding a revolver loaded with so many rounds of possibility why choose to fire so few? Clowning around with your awkward ankles filling these skinny shoes, this bar band boredom a baleful blemish of this (?idle-ideal?) “Blues”, but he's not your typical style of specimen who you could consider all “really” here or there. For we're in that nonsensically natural moment named everywhere.... & well it seems darling that our daylight hours grow numbered amongst those proposing few. Her gut to pale to tell these courting fools what she'd really like them to do! I'd assume your sense of logic is even a riddle to you. So once more these loose strings snap out of the moments tune, & it’s been such a long time. Since you've weighed your quarters out on the back of a dime, powdering your pills in private places, wearing those “soulless” shoes wrapped about without laces. Perhaps in thirty days I'll piss out all your traces...