Coffee Shop (To Jay Brannan) Poem by Aram Stefanian

I'm hanging by inky threatening clouds, and my
Worn out body is going over like a lead balloon.
Feeling like a helium head, I'm gravitating to earth,
But falling into a pit of frustrated wishes instead.
There is one I squirreled away before I kissed off:
To sprout wings to guard you from mental harm.
Before drowning in the ocean of plasma and tears,
My childhood dreams spook me, and I flash on my past.
Another deja vu - and I can hardly tell if that's
Pre-mortal or birth pangs erupting into bitter oblivion.
The blankness has shadowed my spiral path to rebirth.
My brain cells ain't dead: they are transmitting mayday.
How come I overblew C. again at the coffee shop?