dear diary

there are
people in the streets
my mouth foaming yours
with cult-like optimism
shared fanny packs of
viral inhibitions

heads yawing left n right
paralyzed scrambled ambition
under a cell tower the
fog consistency of hated
loving is repetitious

cereal on a spoon we
sugar lust sweeter than
necessary when plain
loses taste the mind
fantasizes better addictions

debits equal credits the
church pew offering is a
pharmacy counter exchange
hands trembling fearful
desperate giving n receiving

washing sweaty sheets
again the fever spreads
despite the foreplay agenda

dear diary
we are lost today

(Agony by Marcus Ortega on fineartamerica.com)