Thursday, July 27, 2017

I Wobble

I wobble and I wiggle and I spin,
Not making sense of things, not making friends,
Unable to think clearly. Not the bends,
Just ordinary dizziness: too thin,
My blood won't reach my brain. The state I'm in
Resembles deep imbalances, extends
To somewhere near the spot where all time ends.
I hear no sound, a harsh, inchoate din.

Who are these people, and what is this place?
How does this taste? When did I feel that touch?
Could I hear music? Did I have a crutch
To help me wobble past that empty space
Where I smelled garlic, thyme, sage, cloves, and mace?
I've made my piece with knowing not so much.

Monday, July 10, 2017


You're looking for somebody to despise,
A mean bastard, a fallen misanthrope
Too filthy to be introduced to soap,
Impassive enemy of lullabies,
Loving the sound of desperate children's cries,
Resisting kindness and detesting hope.
Your sister's husband was strung out on dope,
But he loves animals, and has nice eyes.

Don't look at me. As sweet as candy floss,
I'm known for friendliness and tranquil smiles.
My mother came here from the Faerie Isles,
Meeting my father as she came across
The Ocean of Interminable Loss,
And still the sound of falling stars beguiles.