Wake up
To electrodes on you
Plugged in
Charging up
Or don’t wake up at all
My lungs shook
Dialing three digits
And waiting for the pick-up
Yes, hello
Yes, meadow lane,
A car, yes,
Um, he’s alright
I think, yes. He is.
He is.
The crumpled wheel snapped
Like those crackers you get at church
With the wine
No, the grape juice
Too sweet
And stale
And probably
What electrodes
Would taste like