The Noises of Limbo

Perhaps if I had a bottle to throw
I could step on top of the brown shards
Every crunch would be satisfying
Better than the buzzing
That appears somewhere between
that moment
—Oh please no
—Oh please I will
—Spit out the whiskey
—Wipe my eyes clean
It will be ten minutes ago.

I didn’t drink enough to have a bottle to throw
I have too much to drink to have a bottle to throw
My throat like a drain, my throat like a twist
My throat like a straw with a hole
cut in the middle.

I don’t condone violence.
The shatter might be too loud.
There can be a contest between the silence and the breaking.