Living at the BOTTOM of the FOOD CHAINS here, translated…

Last Night’s Dreams Were Still, Colorless, Mottled, Incomplete

Broken, Like How Your Own Saliva Flew Out from Your Mouth When You’d Talked, Toward an

Erect, Fifty-Year-Old Brass Statue, Making Your Speech,

As You’re Too Worked Up, Dissatisfied & Wanting to Cry, You Feel that Immense Sense of Hunger

And Saw a Rice Ball, and Chinese Buns Falling Down, Then, You Woke in Shock

That Owl that’s Called All Through the Night Still Hadn’t

Caught a Mouse Yet

On This Mountain, There Were Still the Flying Squirrels, the Squirrels, Fighting for the Limited Resources of

Nuts and Fresh Leaves, and, Their Same Kinds are Also Calling Out, in Search of Mates, They Settled

Between the Owls and the Bats, Between the Maples and Sycamores

Becomg Half a Bird, with Their Legs Clenched Tight Together

Outside the Windows of This Old Apartment on the Mountains, the

Clouds visited from Time to Time

Like Toothbrushes, Brushing Up Against that Rusty White Mountainside

Don’t Matter Where I Lived, I’d Always Taken Along that Toothbrush

This Morn, as I Brushed, I Saw Some Blood

My Periodontal Disease was Back Again, This Rusty Bottom Half of My Life, Not Healthy at All

I’d Needed, to Keep Warning Myself, But, I saw, from Out of the Pipes Connecting to My Wash Basin

Crawled Out a Baby Roach, Washed Down with the Antiseptic Mouthwash

Climbed Back Up Again, This Blind and Stubborn Offspring of the Roach

I’d Left, for Only Just a Month, without the Food Remains from My Teeth Entering into the Drains

And He’d Climbed Back Up, Begging Me for Food

I Too, Was Trying to Make a Living, Although I’d Only Gone Half-Way

I’d Fought Really Hard, and Persisted on Not Taking the Handouts from Anybody Else, that, Was When I Got Sent Back Here Again

This Was a Pathology of Being a Clean and Neat Freak

Like in That Spotted Dream, the Feelings of Hunger Weren’t Real

Like How Shadows Kept Asking the Other Shadows, When, Do We, Really Get Warned of to Change Our Lifestyles

So, this, is someone, who’s on her/his way to change, but, there’s not enough of a catalyst, to make the narrator change yet, and so, the narrator is just going to, keep on living in this vicious cycle of her/his own same behaviors, getting STUCK toward the bottom, wanting to move up, but couldn’t, it’s, an AWFUL place to be in!