Mood Elevator
Dreamed 1982/5/12, poem 2015/4/16-18
For Robyn Hitchcock, songwriter of "Man with the Lightbulb Head"
THAT DAY An article claims we'll all soon take
fusion and Mars (hey, and when
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THAT NIGHT Two rich men took me out to dine.
It's a chain of spindle-pods like big
on the ground floor, but my two
Dizzy, I blink. And now I see...
Ideas incandesce, but just two moods--
I pull with all my frail. The vertical train
Gush at my knee, and my friend's light-
down the shaft. By me, his torso tall
No! Bulbs cup vacuum. Our souls accrue
These new Mood Elevators suck.
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NOTES, 2015
Picture your oncologist saying this, after his first drug fails to slow the tumor. Thus medicine dumped me.
I'd been allergy-tested and told I wasn't gluten-sensitive, but just to be sure, I quit eating wheat oats and barley for a week. The pain stopped. Ate them again. Pain. Quit for good, the pain went away. For good.
Too bad doctors haven't.
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