originally published in Feminine Collective
Agony—a gone knee
Can’t bend—no way to mend
This isn’t about aging—maybe about raging
What stops the crazy rhyme-time?
Unplug the clock
Blind its ruby face
Tear your eyes out if you must
Choke on dust
There I go again, too easy
This lilting rhythm and sound
Trapped by the jazzy sing-song of
My ragged synapse
I didn’t make the world, you did
I wanted to fit in, then to be let out
Like a pair of pants that no longer suits
Okay, I’ll stop
But you see where I’m going and what I mean
All this noise in my head, your fault
You made the world in which I briefly twirled
SORRY!
Actually—no
I’ll go on making nonsense from the scantest sense
I rewrite the rules
Trade in the jewels you gave me or promised to
I get to speak in my own way, in my own way
You want to right me?
Bite me