A Queasy Seabreeze in My Poetry Slams

Experiments run amok
Not bad or good, just luck
But you’d be hard pressed
To find me less impressed
By round of applause
Tell me how you feel
Pressing palms to the sky
Raising lips that can’t lie
A fevered highs for me shaking
Legs, arms, and courage quaking
Deep beyond private lines
A lovelines core blinds
A jump and a flash
Metallic iron tastes like ash
Everything as it was
Nothing changed, scenes the same
Take your place now
Once more from the top, with feel
Heavy fingers light the same match twice
Fire not even a spark rises from that place
Inky clouds you saw earlier
Not unknown variables, including her
An equation for a heartache
Is simply algebraic