Hurting me something good
And also making me write
These idle words which make
Witches out of women
And monsters out of men.
It’s only a matter of time
Until I have full-blown arthritis,
And my writing will turn into
Hunting and pecking,
Like a handicap hawk
Who has lost his way.
I’m certain my heart will attack me as well,
But hopefully I survive the first barrage
Like a beast from the Upper East
And continue living and lying
To myself and others
For many more days and in many more ways...