May Begins

like ducks of the walk, bedraggled and drowned.
I’ve forgotten where I left my underwear
and my left ear. It isn’t the same as leaving
glasses in the wrong case. It’s May and I don’t

know what I’m doing. Is there a pill for that?
I’d take it, self-prescribed with shots of
good Scottish whiskey (without the h
or with?) and a scoop of cream whipped

until it bled sugar. Everywhere the sun
sends messages of melanoma. This is
not the summer poem I meant to write.
It’s after rain o’clock somewhere.



Image taken with iPhone.
Words written in bed.
Time Taken 3 minutes.
Brain on mmm…. words…

note: All poems for the month of May are going to be… recorded. In some fashion. I think? I hope. Bear with me. We’ll see how it goes! 

This entry was published on May 1, 2012 at 10:35 am and is filed under May, Poems, Seattle, Self-Portraits. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

2 thoughts on “[108]

  1. Love that last line. “rain o’clock”

  2. Thank you so much!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: