Had a happy hazard happen

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Popeye's farewell Eulogy

He hated his waiting room full of patients. Plumbing up his system of sorrow and solitude. Leaving little bits of litter and cheese cracker crumbs clueing him to the crimes of kinder he wanted to snatch Crayola from butterfinger clutches. Before  scratches violated his fresh page. His mind floundered; belly flap-jacking the damn sand. I had planned to choke down his train. Instead I felt vertebrae give way. Then I stored his corpse here, under this stage. His explosions safely havened my youthful fearsome self. Bravado buffering away the bantering bullies and bowlegged beauty queens. .through the teens, twenties he met our needs, piping hot spew for the few. he served us well for those two decades. But now he's killing us fast lane stripper chaser. Potential spender. Debating the dangers not. Leaving this old knotty tr33 uprooted. And silencing the boy with the broken face. Our center. Of attention. Now he cries with his tilt; a mouthful of sad spaghetti o's.

Getting the Nuts in the Box

Sitting in silence.
  Alone to the bone.
A soft madness tickles over my spine.
Already now, the inner lining to the oh so tenderest side of my lower lip, is chewed clear through to the fat--giving birth to a coral reef like place,  where fragments of pink flesh dangle and snag between incisors.
I nibble at them in the dark.
That's when i hear it.
Or think it.
Somewhere behind me.
Souring me with a heavy taste.
An over-the-shoulderism shutters through my leathery organs. Impossibly. As there is an outer wall not but six inches behind.   
Like worms in my ears... I hear this charred whisper crackle.
"All the greats killed themselves... coward."
The accusation is what scares me.