I slip into thistle behavior, prickly, doubtful.
Why can’t I write a poem about daisies and rudbekia
as an effective sedative to revengeful narcissistic actions.
I read nonstop, no relief, anywhere.
Bouncing off my ceiling, me feeling feckle
What the heckle, ha ha, stop laughing.
This world is struggling to keep it together, yet
I am back to holding rabbits without reason.
Poem and sketch by MJC
Poem and sketch by MJC
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