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Clarity is not the Case
Held in the grip, again
The ache, the twist
The lower curve of my S
The skeletal flow
Now flat out on the hard cold floor
Suprisingly clarity is not the case
One would think with all these hours
Of ceiling study
One could plan one's life out in minute detail
And all I can think of is the bloody pain
And how am I going to enter into negotiation
...with my back
To convince it to stand
To bear weight
And ascend the stairs to bed
I tell it firmly, I have no intentions of spending the night
Fully clothed
On laminate flooring
It just laughs its creaking guffaw
Mocking my efforts at the power struggle
Between it and I
At some far recess I hear Joan Baez
Singing her haunting tones 'overcoming'
To a single guitar
Dammit, can't even reach the guitar
I'd settle for the Triangle, a Kazzoo
Paper and comb even
I'm thinking a medieval torture wrack
May have a new market..
poem
by
Lisa Deer
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