(2014)
Left on a leash Is no way to live He disappeared I like to imagine He’s running in a field
Does it hurt? When you prick your finger No I do this just for fun Our fingers lose feeling
Does the world need Another book? Another poem? I add one more to the pile To be left alone
My pump Constant companion Of my disease My sensor Resembles a feeding
If food is poetry The flavors The smells Singing in harmony Is poetry food?
Clinical smells Polite strangers The only thing worse Than being here Is to not be able
Uh-Oh! Cranky mood Throws a fit Over cereal Cheerios
To be genius means To not follow the rules You don’t have to I wish to be smart But not self-important
An idea In my head Falls flat On paper Read it
Would I rather be A younger me? More productive Stronger Would i have to give up
The pine trees Reach up On both sides Of the road Telling me
Blonde eyes To match her hair Life is mean She counts her blessings Hopes for the best
I can feel it coming Decisions I can’t make Brain starts to freeze Fingers won’t work Sick of this disease
I love to hear poetry read Rather than performed I love to hear each word Appreciated Rather than memorized
My objective is selfish Not to share or be heard To get it out and move on No one seems to hear my pain No one seems to feel my pain
