with patterns

he struggling now with patterns, all these shapes and corners, somewhere is his home; i know, i’ve seen him on the street or on this bench, and so i lead him to the green door round the way; the shapes and patterns: crosses on the door, and in the windows; plants that hang from fraying … Continue reading "with patterns"

Oh, Friend

Why is it we must lose the very things we're proudest of?

Dementia Monologue

the brain gets t w i s t e d a n d y o u can't find y o u r w a y outBecauseYou'reSoConfusedAnd what was i saying? the brain Did I ever tell you gets twisted and you can't find about when we stole your way out because you're angry that old … Continue reading "Dementia Monologue"