Poems | What Has Weight

Sclerosis | Neurosis

Run!
It’s all coming in—
the wire is live,
it burns the skin.
Fire shot! Fire shot!
No time to think,
just rot.

Myelin! Myelin!
Send the brain—mail in.
He’s here again,
chewing through the chain
first the tit, then the brain.

There’s no cure.
But you endure.
You live with it—
if it stirs
each night like spit.
It might relapse,
perhaps—
in ten to forty years,
or tears.

But my house is on fire,
my stuff’s in the pyre,
and my nerves?
Fired—
wired
to the liar.

Numbness. Tingling.
Balance gone.
Double vision.
Speech all wrong.

Descartes, Descartes—
You split the parts
pull the fuckers apart
for a start but;
Lesions bloom
A mind departs.

Lobotomy
An odyssey.

Change your mind, love?
Change your mind, How?