There is no sick man that hasn’t grown.
Some people are meant
To spend their entelechy
In keeping themselves alive:
Talmudic gaze blessed by
Latanoprost Ophthalmic,
Dorzolamide Ophthalmic —
40 years old and Glaucus
Is rowdy in my eyeballs;
Cytokine storms rip rolls of text,
Like hurricanes ripping rolls of grass…
Desvenlafaxine, Azathioprine —
Pain and trembling,
So much predicated on that.
Keep on keeping on, I guess,
Pushing the chthonic stone,
I’ll name it JOY —
Each stone-loving lichen cell,
A teacher…each groove,
Un Gran Cañón*.
*a Grand Canyon.
