They come in their pretty suits,
ties and buttons hung with degrees,
to bleed their diagnosis from
a book of black and white
into my head trusting
therapy and pills are my salvation.
There are whispers in the valley of my ears,
“She’s a jagged glass of broken mirrors
that hears what doesn’t speak, and
asks to go out to the courtyard
so she can gather shadows to place
in vases on her windowsill.”
In the distance a radio grinds out tunes
in confetti spurts of voices that are supposed
to soothe my demons, but in truth only
gives me images of cigarette ash spittle
falling on the tiles from burnout tongues.
Why am I named patient in this Crazyatorium,
when those who picture frame their degrees
can’t find their way home if the GPS fails on their Tesla.
Don’t they know a poet will never fit a diagnosis?
Hell, I can’t explain myself to myself.
Give me an image and I hear things.
Give me a list of words and I see things.
Am I insane? I don’t know.
I can just as easily write myself into appearing normal
as I can spill inky crow verses of anomaly.
©Susie Clevenger 2024
I am struck by the second stanza, which is just brilliant. And amused by the fourth. Fantastic writing.
ReplyDeleteIt's been said many times that it's a thin line between genius and madness. It's also been said that those who pretend to be perfect are the craziest of all. And poets? You're right, we will never fit a diagnosis, much less a pigeonhole.
ReplyDeleteHow you dance the images before us like marionettes on a string, Susie! Perhaps it's the world that's insane and poets are here to record their insanity. As it lurches to its grave, poets like you with their "inky crow verses of anomaly" are the only truly defiant ones willing to speak against the cult of experts " in their pretty suits,/ties and buttons hung with degrees," who possess no wisdom or truth.
ReplyDelete" Why am I named patient in this Crazyatorium,
ReplyDeletewhen those who picture frame their degrees
can’t find their way home if the GPS fails on their Tesla. "
So true! Great writing, Susie!
I can relate to this as I am sure many other poets could. The questions are what poets do; question the world and question the heart. An absolutely amazing poem Susie!
ReplyDelete