Read the previous poem Push onward to the next poem personal after party

he sleeps on the negatives
that he took last week
dreaming of second guesses

placed some years
in a plastic bag
burned the suffocated evidence

it's not a problem until you fall down at the cocktail party

before the collapse
he pressed his face to the wall
the temperature almost cold enough
to take away the rest of the room

he turned  yelled that their veins
were wires
just conduits wrapped
around disposable  transmissions