Swim

Lonely one,

            Curley head  sinks rises up for air,

            water separates limbs,

                        Arm over arm I swim. I need

 

The

Pills, have to

            be exact (the terrifying cost).

             I am a chemical

                        cocktail, have no idea I am,

But 

Monday morns

            I line up the bottles, four to make

            well, three for side effects.

                         Crazy to be crazy:  it’s normal. The

 

Drug

Store is a

             lamb who wants to do my business.

            The old chemical gods–

                        Officious. Pills are pills like

 

Wolf

In suburbs

            I  howl late into the night, displaced.

             Rummage through garbage

                        starving, starving, starving.

 

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My poetry is both spare and lyrical. I write poetry to make sense out of my world. I have been published in Hudson View, Best Poem, Chronogram, Many Waters, Word Thursdays among other magazines. I have also been an instructor at Empire State College.