"...like some cook with morbid tastes I boil and eat my own heart."
- Baudelaire, The Apparition in The Complete Verse

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,

starving hysterical naked..."

- Allen Ginsberg, "Howl"

Poetry: The Rhythm Method

The fan stops spinning,
I peel myself off the damp sheets
and sift through nightmares.
Unpicked, heavy,
I leave them hanging.

Burning toast.
Your reflection in the mirror
as you shave.
Close, closer, closest
three blades eight blades eleven.