If I wait to take my medicine, I can write a lot of poems before I start having seizures. I have about another hour before things start to get really bad, so I’m taking advantage of it for now. I was trying to post 48 new pieces in 24 hours; I couldn’t tell you why. It’s 8:13 AM as I write this, and I am in a hotel room with a day’s drive ahead of me.
Why we do what all we do,
I’m not sure and nor are you.
Climates change and tempers vary,
All of it seems arbitrary;
Some connection happens freely,
Most of us are frightened, really.
Couplets drone in empty sounding,
Hearts that hearken to keep pounding.
Why we do what all we do?
I don’t know, and nor
Do you