The Teeth of Insanity

like a cast held

hostage to another’s fracture

of mind, settled in my place,

a vague inclination

that it’s not mine.

What should I say father, do I own it? Never! “come what may!” I yell with a wrinkled fist,

like a tired old man my soul wrinkles through whistly teeth, white and yellow.

and shuts, waiting for the winter Re- peat: “come what may," but even

to come like it always does. my inflection is weak,with stress

Put on my wool sweater on the “what” rather than the

and socks, and make “come” or the “may”—

tea to pass the day how ironically my

without a sec- fears present

ond thou- themsel-

ght. ves.

(fol) (sel)

This terrible weight of missing something anything

it just keeps sinking and reminding me something’s

missing anything and everything is shouting and

stretching their faces to mock me and jest

in daily places my eyes blink to hide

me but even in that action my

insanity is circling and sp-

inning around me like

a terrible aweful

smiling mock-

ery of my

own mis-

guided

smiles

as

lies

thro-

ugh

my

teeth.

…And I Just Sit Here Smiling.