mouth breather

don't get me wrong i enjoy breathing
but sometimes i see someone with 
a mouth so wide open that angels
start walking in. my mom told me 
when i was little that it is a bad idea
to clear your head because you don't know
what will walk inside. i did it anyway
because i don't listen to instructions
& now i'm gay. the reality is that 
my nose just doesn't really work. 
when i tell people that they usually say,
"you should get that checked out?" i laugh
with what money? with what time?
with what oracle? i picture myself
opening up my scrying mirror & searching
for an answer to all my ailments. 
once in a waiting room i watched 
a little boy press his sticky hand
to the glass door leading back into
the belly of the white world. his father
pulled him back & feed him
the waiting room toys. once i was driving
& could not find anywhere with a coffee.
when you crashed the car i thought,
"finally." no deer, just the side
of an ugly snowy road. it's my left 
nostril that doesn't work the most.
i don't mind being tired all the time.
what really gets to me is not having enough
to look forward to. i talk about food
like shrines to place my aching.
in the ditch i said, "we're getting thai food soon."
i know i'm a mouth-breather
& it is really embarrassing. it is me. 
i am the one with the angels walking in.
they never take off their shoes.
track mud into my brain. i know this is
not why i'm broken or melancholy
but it is easier to explain than the full picture
which involves more of my body
than i'm willing to share. i wash my face
in the shower. i can't really smell 
but i do feel the tea tree oil
when i rub it into my scalp. i don't know
who told me to do this ritual
but it makes me feel a little more alive.
sometimes the angels even ruffle their feathers
like chickens in the cold. 
i am drinking air from a plastic cup
it tastes like lemon soda.