put back together
with spare parts.
I'm not nice,
but I am kind,
and the only thing missing
is a foot of my colon.
I fall into bed,
placing my Yankees hat on the next pillow,
and wonder if I will live or die.
My brain hums
with poetry
and Virginia Woolf madness.
Because we all die,
you should eat dessert first
and join me in the kitchen
for a last dance.