How do you qualify a mental disorder? I’m disordered, perfectionist I’m perfect I’m me Me: Mental. Disordered? How do you tell an eight-year-old she doesn’t need to color-code her vocab words in blues and grays in orderly, disorder? “A+: nice work”? Nice work. By her. By it? Disorder? How do you tell…… Continue reading Diagnosis
The People Watcher’s Chronicles: The Wormhole Coffee, 1462 N. Milwaukee Ave, Chicago, IL When swampy nectar meets my glance, I’ll squint, so Business-Suit-Man, smothered in mocha char, can’t hide the cubicle tethers he guards like pagers at soccer games. He sinks. Soon my java eyes will swerve, immerse Mis-Print- Daughter-Of-Priests, estranged I’m sure, her shark…… Continue reading The People Watcher’s Chronicles
Glue Poem Is there a color for being stuck? The navy wind sucked out of you. Baby blue? Pale? Empty? You don’t remember how it hued before you were stuck. Something festive, you imagine. Chartreuse, tamale red, fuchsia, but never empty. You don’t remember when it happened. The sticking, that is. Did it…… Continue reading Poem for being stuck
This is the excerpt for your very first post.