Poison Control

i wish to be the trash bag
tossed in shallow

less than you want to
be tending to it
as thankless

on wobbly knee, plucking rose
stem from a patch of
poison oak,

raised from death
in tainted bed,

brushing dirt off

to redeem

life from poisons
of the head.

Grumpy Gorman

…now to wipe my splatter from the bathroom walls and sweep the glass

from our flower bed.

2 thoughts on “Poison Control

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