I put all my money on that strong-voiced queen,
only to be stood up by my therapist.
only to be stood up by my therapist.
The baleful notion I’m too much
of an optimist
enters my mind as I drift into a dream
of being whisked to a verdant hillside to listen to a harpist.
enters my mind as I drift into a dream
of being whisked to a verdant hillside to listen to a harpist.
But what I really am is a
ventriloquist—
my lower gut does all my talking for me,
especially when I’m singing to my therapist.
my lower gut does all my talking for me,
especially when I’m singing to my therapist.
And I know my spiel won’t get past
the receptionist
if it’s going to be nothing but just honky and twangy,
sent over the air by our verdant-hillside-strumming harpist.
if it’s going to be nothing but just honky and twangy,
sent over the air by our verdant-hillside-strumming harpist.
Everyone saw me ante up to be an
imagist
poet—I hollered in the squills like Amy Lowell,
and then I had the honor of being stood up by my therapist!
poet—I hollered in the squills like Amy Lowell,
and then I had the honor of being stood up by my therapist!
What astounds me most is how
much Jesus-juice
is crackling in my bones, though I seem
calm—abiding on my verdant hillside with my harpist—
even after being stood up by my therapist.
is crackling in my bones, though I seem
calm—abiding on my verdant hillside with my harpist—
even after being stood up by my therapist.
