imposed hunger strike

sensing
the circling storm,

I hide,

face down
in the
swamp
of my own
inertia.

hot wet
and urgent
the ozone stinks
as warning,
harbinger.

and
lightning
makes congress
with the earth,
her laughter
crackles,
teeth on edge.

midday and all
I
long for
is some fucking

inspiration

some unbridled
passions

for feng shui
or
britney
or
nietzche.