Something's stifling me;

its name I'm wont to mention

but my soul can't breathe.

I went from the jacuzzi

to the sauna; I couldn't sit still.

a perpetual cigarette, into the steam

room but my lungs couldn't take it—They are having sex

under my poems like it's side one of

Led Zeppelin 4.

Nothing good can come out of this.  I have lost my groove.

So let them have sex!

just let me get back to my groove