TALKS TO CROWS

The woman who talks
to crows is doing it again?
She's talking to the crows
In the park. She caws
and she gestures to them.
She brings crushed walnuts
in a plastic bag
and tosses them in
the direction of the crows.
Eat, eat, she says.
These walnuts will make
you strong as humans, she says.
Together, we will form
a friendship, she says,
that no one can pry apart.

 

LITTLE HOPE

I am fighting
a losing battle
with reality.
It laughs in my face,
at my tears, and
tears at my heart.
I'm its victim,
it's rag doll, a fool
with little hope.
I am counting
on the four-letter
word. I am reeling.
It's getting tougher
and I'm holding on.

 

SEVER

Is it off with the thumb or off with the pinkie? So you can control the voices spinning around in your head? I don't think so. Why else do you push the knife down so sharply to sever your fingers? Is this what you want or what the voices want? The cocaine haze can't be doing you much good.

I am not sent from the heavens. Don't confuse me with angels or devils. I have come to assist you, not in discussing the meaning of life. If I knew the meaning of life, I could be the one in the psych ward missing fingers. I believe what you think you believe that is not the point.

I know that you are hurting and that you've hurt others when violent impulses come to you. The broken nose of the person that loves you most can attest to this. You said the voices told you to do this. The voices are not real. But this is your reality, which has severed more than your fingers.

 

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