bis in diem

At first, the blood-washed porcelain was ominous.
Just tell them, you passive aggressive dick.
Wolf cry wolf cry wolf
Spit,
Rinse,
and log it again.

The liver cells howled
“We were here,”
to that deaf, baroque moon.
I swallow all the mouth wash
So the tap runs clear.
Hygienic,
Canine
Prophecies.

Just tell them
“It’s going to get easier”
When it’s really just going
Down the drain.
I’m no longer worried it’s washing away.