Well I'm starting to be free of this. nIf I would have died nwould that have made the rest better? nA canary in a coal miner's cage, nthe last one to go not yet a red letter day. nnLast night I fell asleep to air. nIn the morning I'll wake up nto my lungs filled with clutter. nnWill I ever breathe again? nRun, run take cover. nThe walls in this house nare caving in like sleep paralysis. nBlack out! Black out! Black out!nnLast night I fell asleep to air. nIn the morning I'll wake up nto my lungs filled with clutter.nnNow I swim out to the ocean crest, nI stretch my hand out to deliver a letter. nA paranoid poet’s distress. nnPast a few weird trees and mist,na voice beckons to me nfrom between the bed and the covers. nCanaries telling fables of men. nlike so many poets who fell in love with the bottle. nnIf the bird went first then I'm gone too. nAnd all of my friends are pouring liquor on my grave. nTipping their hats and their bottles, and walking off. nBut in a few short hours they'll be here too.nnLast night I fell asleep to air. nIn the morning I'll wake up nto my lungs filled with clutter. n