ErrantHeart• Show poetry

I'm suffering from head thrombosis bombastisitis ridiculitis

and it's got a choke hold on my brain

eek yikes oh squeeze it like a pimple but it still won't mole

choke choke choke choke

hole



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The Casket Days
by me (May 2006)

I come here
night after night
day after day
sit weary
saturate in the easy flow
of distant comradery
I ache for that
human touch
that elusive slender reed
of enveloping trust
Mellow ambiguity doesn't satisfy much
in the way of need
Bitter afterglow
stretched on a slab
mournful eyes
whisper
how sad to see her go
She delighted herself
danced in his shadow
found tender surprises
Expecting nothing
wanting everything
there was hardly time to wave
Slammed shut
the casket days
continue...





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I wrote a wounded poem
it bled and gushed

with all the panic that set in
the rush to staunch the flow

I decided termination
was the way to go

band-aiding seemed stupid



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A favorite poem:

Theodore Roethke's -
The Geranium

When I put her out, once, by the garbage pail,
She looked so limp and bedraggled,
So foolish and trusting, like a sick poodle,
Or a wizened aster in late September,
I brought her back in again
For a new routine--
Vitamins, water, and whatever
Sustenance seemed sensible
At the time: she'd lived
So long on gin, bobbie pins, half-smoked cigars, dead beer,
Her shriveled petals falling
On the faded carpet, the stale
Steak grease stuck to her fuzzy leaves.
(Dried-out, she creaked like a tulip.)

The things she endured!--
The dumb dames shrieking half the night
Or the two of us, alone, both seedy,
Me breathing booze at her,
She leaning out of her pot toward the window.

Near the end, she seemed almost to hear me--
And that was scary--
So when that snuffling cretin of a maid
Threw her, pot and all, into the trash-can,
I said nothing.

But I sacked the presumptuous hag the next week,
I was that lonely.




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