Ode to Displacement

smoking a joint, most likely, while writing reams of shit for other purposes that, frankly, I'm getting mighty sick of writing - hence I come to your poem and ramble when I should be working.  But self-flagelation?  bastard that I am, I save that for truly special ocassions. As for poetry, its making my eyes cross lately, which always indicates a need for booze in my book.  Poison the brain until it sees clearly again, no?