even the poem has no name

she said

i cannot think

my thought is shattered crystal

across the floor

 

he said

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.

she said

my head is full of splintered wood

termite infested

 

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.

 

she said

i had a thought yesterday
but at dawn today it turned into white light,

walked through a prism

and left me alone.