I have no idea what’s going on

in my patent sort of way.

maybe I’ll figure something out

someday.

I have three fakes on my face,

three jakes on my plate.

I have a sorrowful continuum.

Honey I got disorders on

disorders, stacked in play.

Honey I’m in between things.

I’m like a divider in a spreadsheet.

Honey I can’t generate anything

meaningful.

Honey I got a disease,

honey please.

I have no idea where I am,

found at sea,

lost in the weeds,

sordid normal

personal feats.

Trouble comes in threes.

A man who might be

in love with me,

a girl who certainly is.

An infection in my

intestines.

Something help me,

please.

It’s so uncertain.

A woman in Western

Mass who I want to see.

Who I want to marry.

And isn’t that some insanity?



No strong feelings

outside of my anxiety.

I could go either way.

Everything seems to

be outside of me,

and I guess that’s okay.

Will he leave me be?

Will she be okay?

Will she like it?

Will she like me?

What’ll happen to me?

Will I be okay?

I’m doing my best,

I really am.

It’s not for lack of trying,

this I can promise.

I just have no idea

what’s going to happen

this week, or the next.

Room. Walls. Low silver

light, blueish beige. TV

screen, dirty laundry.

Tupperware full of calories.

The door. The world. It’s

loud. The noise.

I don’t make a habit of

submitting.

Pathological need for

hands on the levers

of this cockpit.

In the end it isn’t

up to me.

And anger comes in,

but it can’t deliver me.

I am a sufferer.

I am disordered.

I cannot face this

naturally.

I cry a little, but it

doesn’t feel safe.

As soon as it starts,

a strange non-monologous

thought, a switch,

an angle, as if seen

in perspective, from

the corner, one hundred

eighty degree turn,

I’m being watched.

I’m trying to get better

at everything.

It’s barely a dent and

my head feels worse than

when I started.

Who’s watching you?

Well they are, slick.

Are they here?

Well I won’t be caught

unawares.

Can you be specific?

About what?

Who’s watching you?

Oh, you know,

mom and them.





the place that contains the list of the containers of words