the poet rears his ugly head
fallen from grace
(who helps me get back on the gurney
near the ceiling i see
spelled out in letters and lights
east eden central
I feel my wisdom
tooth with the tip of my tongue
it's all still there
you shouldn't move grace tells me
so i think about the woman I saw
when they wheeled me in
I cry for you she shouted
shaking a pale fist
and back in the E.R. i smirk
I too am forgetting how to speak
but that was months ago back home
I'm drinking milk
out of a square carton
thinking of warm mammaries
taking apart each poem mug in hand
i crucify the verse
before breakfast
before i wake up
mind is a mush of nonsense
"I too want to blow up the prime meridian
eenee meenee leaves of grass
(eighteen fifty-five when suddenly you
spring from my head fully armed
back at the hospital on the gurney
grace (or was her name mary
is pressing her soft warmth
into my chest and suddenly
I realize how much i want to write