Constipation (Humor Poem)

Searching for the early Parkinson’s twitch Or the Alzheimer’s gap, I gently trudge past The eponyms that could define me When my knee makes creaky noises a habit And my knuckles crunch as I type the keyboard Of an old typewriter And perhaps if I was lucky enough I would have a disease named after…

To The One That Never Was

You the apple in the grape orchard That chews a part of me Still. Like the lost wreck below many nautical miles That holds a finder’s treasure Ingots of carats that could make me exalt in joy Or surrender in a kiss And you, in the fogged and misted orchard Who holds the aspirations of…