Excess Observed

Sometimes he’s fine
Until he blasts himself
With marijuana, meds and booze

Then he’s a slate wiped clean
Refilled with gibberish
Slit-eyed and oblivious in shrouded spaces

Falling, bleeding, pissing
In a cloud impenetrable by sense or pain or shame
But not because he doesn’t care . . .

Groping – not for words –
But for speech itself – think-tongued and dumb
Failing to make his point

Lurching from scene to scene
Unseeing and insensible until the next day
When he appears – charming; if only briefly