And the Expletives Remained
The lines flowed,
the poem wrote itself
and the expletives remained
Fuck the Poetry Police!
Fuck you all, very much.
Spinning Out
The last time I was
" hearing voices" again
was only a couple of days ago.
I was sick in bed
with a viral infection.
I was trying to sleep
but voices kept saying
" Think what you know is true."
But then I would think,
" Well what do I know is the truth ?"
Then I’d think of something
and say, well that’s true,
and quick as a flash
another voice would say
" Is that really what you believe ?
Is that what is true ?
Isn’t that bullshit ?"
And then I’d have to think of
something else to believe in.
And this was not a relaxed process.
No way!
It was manic.
It seemed to happen
a 1000 times a minute,
and it just wouldn’t stop.