check-in

life is mostly fine,
though too often it is being an npc;
some days consist of broken english
and me, feeble chessmaster of nouns -

there unfurl small joys which
butterfly as the rorschach
on the broad fore-head of the tiger;
the a/c purrs currently near the kingdom
of my mattress; when bourbon touches
the mouth, the anemone skin therein swells,
releasing enamored acids