Angry Poem

Angry Poem Off Meds

Stuck in here behind hopeless webs--
A hungry tent caterpillar.
Eat your way out, a fat success,
You're torn apart into bird food.

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New Poem After Some Book of Mormon Reading

If my brain or heart had a "service engine" light
mine would be permanently on.
All these years and no cure yet.
"The noise is still there, Doc."
Chris says, "You're not crazy,"
and he would know.

He says, "Get some sleep."
He says, "Go to church."
He says, "I got you some ice cream!"
which isn't part of the cure
but it does taste good
and makes me smile.

Somewhere between the praying
and the scripture reading,
the gardening and three boys,
one loving husband, one goofy dog,
one big family, a few more bills paid,
some luck, and the Holy Spirit . . .

I feel better enough.