i cannot think
my thought is shattered crystal
across the floor
sounds like a crisis of poetic
confidence. avoid the poetry police.
try selling flowers.
she said i am playing pick-up-sticks
i cannot pick up one
without disturbing the others
and i lose
the doctor said
aren’t you the relation of the newly buried
Alzheimer’s patient? ahh yes.
early onset. drink grape juice.
my head is full of splintered wood
the teacher said
get a Magic Marker and sleep with it under your pillow
this will not cure you but will put a lovely
crimp in your neck.
i had a thought yesterday but at dawn today it turned into white light,
walked through a prism
and left me alone.