Tuesday, May 10, 2011

A Transgressive Diagnosis

Late shift begins:
Death by repetition,
A re-worked dementia—
Standard
Operating
Peregrinations

Lambasted for the green
--I’d burn every tree—
To jest at being free!

Life: an indentured servitude
Of sorts.

I sold my soul at three,
Once I realized tears
Are currency.
Never dried-eyed again,
The doc’ diagnosed me—
Greed.

No comments:

Post a Comment