20 March 2011

Self Medicate

Every word is release.
Each sound and every single syllable is a therapeutic pill.
The punctuation is an anti-anxiety.
Study the screen like an X-Ray,
Plotting the next treatment.

Metered I-V
Drip, drips
Into the veins.
Heart beats each word
Out to a fingertip.

Keys tap, tap in rhythm.
Stanzas of diagnoses
Scroll down the page,
Changing and changing and changing.
Every poem is a prescription.

Then why the hell don't I write more often?

2 comments:

  1. The elusive muse! Was wondering where you've been! Glad to see you back. I like your metaphor!

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  2. Thanks Lola. I've kind of been wondering where I was too!

    I think the poem is way incomplete. But I had to get it written now, or I probably never would have.

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