hello. your name?
color. full color.
this evening drove
up and down the roads.
bad news came.
small ticks. small ticks biting me.
small ticks biting me and
giving me lyme disease.
doctors calling and leaving
these small messages in my voice mail.
hey guess what, you have
freakin’ lyme disease
small panics.
small calm downs.
small panics.
lie in bed
thoughts.
the future holds unknown data. I will transform more into a mental/spiritual being than a physical being. the physical will wash away. this reality is smacking me around. I have zero control over it.
still managed to sleep a full night’s rest, thanks to these meds. small thoughts on what the future holds, a little worried about what’s going to happen to my legs. upset that I can’t skate any more, or even run. can barely walk around in a grocery store, have to use the cart to brace myself.
constant interruptions here in the work place even during my lunch break. they come in right in the middle and request more assistance. I’m starting up annoyance like I’m pulling the cord to start up a lawnmower. the interruptions distract, postpone, or obliterate the journal entry.
pens:
1.
having a terrible time
I don’t know about you
at least it is Tuesday
2.
we sit in Subway
I pull out a pen and
write on a sweepstakes card:
“what a day. today they diagnosed…
pray big for me.”
and I put the card
back in the box
3.
keep losing pens
losing patience
losing sleep and breath
and they ask
in conversation
how I am doing
4.
I pen in reply
“I think I am done
writing for
devotee based magazines”
don’t feel bad about it
I don’t want to offend
or come off like
I have a bloated ego.
it’s just that some movements…
are too international.
5.
pry a pen from my hand
if you think you can do it.
please leave me be…
6.
printing, offices, digital
meetings, chairs,
lunches, phone calls,
florescent lights,
hand shakes, thank you’s
goodmorning’s
what is more
what is more?
what is bored all the way
to the bank?
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