Sit amongst awaiting seekers
Voyeuristic spirits rise in such tides
No socially relevant lecture
No epic warrior siege
No doomed enraptured affair
No apocalyptic salvation, please
Labored psyches require it most
Inappropriate hilariously crass folly
Blessed are the cinematic buffoons
Higher meaning via literary maze
Within opinionated flaps of printer’s skin
Scanning, absorbing lost bundled letters
Clear message – not quite brilliant works
Writer’s stance is hollow, feeble – no sacrifice at all
Nonfiction soul is lacking – perhaps even exiled
Plastering glossy imagines – like flowers in mud
Writer’s composing spirit is dying – thus yellow, moldy funeral
Reader lives willingly to suffer the task
Such is required to take up the purposeful quill
Heart is aptly named Thespian
Housed in back lot facades
Ever so subtly, upstaged plastic star
With ugly yet honest delivery
Real humans tearfully applaud
Justly offers of wealth and fame
All pour out like Biblical torrent
Not ready nor willing to take the lead
Heart utters, I expect more of myself
Obediently medicated per MD
Using all my coping skills
Loathing is frantically bubbling
I am stable boredom incarnate!
Frida’s corrupted spine, dead baby
and Diego’s wandering member
Small framed pain and twisted life
Beautifully, grotesquely ruins me
Kahlo’s artistic corpse laughs
and refuses to engulf a pleading me
Lunacy, nonetheless, was a nice visit
Medicated Words 