"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

there’s no place like home

the sky is growing dorothy  as 2 girls with a 3 legged dog   (seriously)

cackle in the galeforce breeze  one lamenting they just raised

her dose of medication


i wonder if she is from the asylum next door  they changed

the street number from 999 to 666  years ago  to appease

our dark lord


beats the  bughouse looneybin ship of fools  from days of yore

this is not a PC poem   cackles getting louder  as girl peels off

her jeans


legs akimbo

she takes a jaded

crucifix  from her purse


u know what happens now  linda blair blares  let jesus fuck me

(hey  i didn’t write the script)


but our heroine more demur  lilts quietly  as i jig   today a woman

told me  her mother is on life support  +asked if her down’s syndrome

sister  should be taken to the bedside


horrified  i instantly regretted admitting i am a therapist  now raped

by her trauma  i bolt the door  longing for  just a smudge of sanity

ashwednesday emblazoned  on my  stress crushed physiognomy


i’d go home  if home wasn’t renovated to smithereens  by the petit

bourgeoisie   FREE   the ghosts of 52 Purdon please  chained in

servitude  to our happyshiny dreams


..the way ahead may be found in suffering. There is no cure,

for life is not a disease, nor death a punishment..

(James Hollis Jungian Analyst: The Middle Passage 1993) 



Fall 2022   ..let my people go..

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