Seeing her troubled face, the thoughts wreaking havoc
With the moment, her spirit twisting here and there,
Fingers with a death hold on the cigarette,
Muttering at the indifferent floor, the walls,
A song comes to mind with the picture:
Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues
(Wouldn’t a drunken Davies laugh be helpful here?).
Throwing it all three sheets to the wind,
Indeed, fighting off those walls closing in,
Making bold to venture out, grab the day by the throat,
Give it a good shake, brain it with the bottle,
Sister, who are you at the moment?
Can we inject some old rock and roll
Into that worn out middle-aged attitude?
Can we perhaps bring out at least a smile?
Ah, the days are passing, and you dressed in frustration,
Shaking your drug-filled head at the unanswered,
A silent scream for your lonely predicament.
Would a quick peck on the cheek be enough
To bring you to a brighter surface, shake you
From depression’s hold, that dulled trudge to the grave?
More from Issue #2
Right There by Michael Blake
Ah, to be at that point where I don’t care – So seldom does it come – Where I can laugh at even those close, Saying that the movie doesn’t end like…
Wide-Eyed by Michael Blake
That fastened, unwavering stare, Innocence fully absorbed In the moment, Seemingly stunned, Frozen in captivation. What answers (adult acceptable) To tiny fingered questions? Making it succinct and satisfying So as on to…
Those Insidious Details by Michael Blake
Here again they bit at him, annoyed, The trivialities working their way in, Distracting, taking any focus. Futile attempts at casual dismissal For he is unsettled by the wave after wave, The…
Memories of My Irish Great Grandfather by Mary Gunn
He always sat in the same chair by the fire to the left-hand side but slightly in front of it— a permanent fixture in that sturdy wooden chair, the only chair that…