After the Accident


The hum of the machine I hear
I feel another presence near
Or maybe two, I cannot tell
I cannot seem to see

I wonder where I am, and how
I came to be where I am now –
I know that I don’t feel too well,
And something’s wrong with me

Who is that crying? She’s so sad.
I once heard my wife cry that bad –
This crying sounds like she did then
But I just do not know

It’s dark in here, I feel a breeze
I hear somebody’s labored wheeze
But I can’t rouse myself again
I think it’s time to go

Malady, M’Lady?

steen, jan sick woman 1665

Methinks thou hast a malady
For thou art loth to baffle me:
The litany of thy complaints
Would vex the patience of the saints.

For thou, thou bitcheth, hard and long;
Thy cavils issueth quite strong;
And all thou sayest,  far or near
Would try the wiles of  Shakespeare

What I Look Like

People ask me what I look like
And so I tell her, or him:
“If I told you, there’d be no point
In having a pseudonym.”

But I guess that hints are harmless
I’m a cross between these three
Shown below. So scan these photos
Close your eyes, Imagine me!