
I can pull, bend, or
fold this day. Contort the hours
in mighty ways. Yet
still I loathe it. I
want silence all around me,
too. Can’t share in haikus.
I can pull, bend, or
fold this day. Contort the hours
in mighty ways. Yet
still I loathe it. I
want silence all around me,
too. Can’t share in haikus.
Strangers in my house
eat my food, cut my clothes, mess
with my meds. I know.
Mulder was right:
Trust NO ONE.
Pills, pills, pills, cuz I’m
green in the gills. Look out my
window sill at sun.
Ink blot on my sun
Have the last words say, “I’m done.”
You’re the smoking gun.
My eyes are itchy.
My legs are twitchy. My mouth
is bitchy. Sleep come.
100 extra
pounds of Susan on the wall.
100 extra
pounds of Susan. If
forty-four of those pounds should
happen to fall, she
Ate Too Much MOCOLATE!!!
No stones to mark them.
No lilies to view. It’s as
if nobody knew.
Let’s play a game. I’ll
slide it in. Yes, it’s a sin.
You don’t cry. I’ll lie.
Pointy ore intru-
der in my vein. Maverick
mask. Feel good. Sleep. Pain.
Ice cold Corona
in hand, sun hitting hard on
boat and me: twenties
Water, 2000 sunblock,
sun and gravity stuff slides
down, two greys breed: fifties
(Not that I would know yet 😉)