full-belly broke

I’m fully-belly broke

feeling empty-stomach drunk

at the end of the road

the beginning of the month

I scrape the corners of my mind

until I rot in meditation

none of this is science

and yet you feel the urge

you are morally not allowed to complain

I came to rock this mother earth

for what it’s worth 

I’ll die in here

and when I do

I’ll take my time

to roost among the dirt