Poetry
Unknown
I used to want everything
I was thirsty, and starving
time was I lifted my face to the rain and then there were umbrellas
and
vinyl hats
(it's Oregon
it's not magic, it's Oregon and winter, every day)
I had a great-aunt (Irene)
(goodnight)
I had a great-aunt who went crazy
wasn't brutal she said (it was electroshock) say you were
spinning
in a literal rut, a groove, say you sputter the chorus like a
warped old 45
(not a shock it was but a tap on the needle, spinning you
forward)
I may suffocate myself
(may break my bones, and words forever hurt me)
I used to suck them in, as elixers
now I shut them out, as in rain
Broke my own self. An experiment.
I'm a shuddering mouse now, red-eyed and wary, waiting for
results
(and coughing)
Anon.
