Every Day Begins With Regurgitation Lying prone
on my soft purple velvet bedspread
staring up at the ceiling
and the high neon green walls
rendered incoherent grey for lack of light
listening to The Bends
High and Dry
letting handful after handful of honey nut cheerios
drop into my mouth
from my sticky fingers.
Soon I will drop, too
into the salivating mouth of
drowsiness
swallowed into a deep sleep
until the household rooster
regurgitates me at the break of dawn.