What?
Is the nurturing dead
Is she attempting to divide my 3rd heart
into my 12th heart
I am a disabled person
There is something wrong with my hands that I cannot explain
I voice the poems into the machine
But much of the time the machine puts the wrong words
I am very sad about my 12th heart
Is being ripped out of my chest
But what I am even … more … sad about
Is my precious 3rd heart
Which used to dance and prance at the same time
My 3rd heart for me was like a wild pony
It gave me happiness and laughter
Is nurturing and contentment
Now I'm an old man quite homeless
Pulling a drag of smoke
From my cigarette
Whose name starts with an m
The name of the smoke
Which the machine will not publish properly
Is Marlborough
Do you see what I mean it does not spell the word properly
There is something wrong with my hands
I realize I have no chance of being published
But like the night light that just burned out
Is during my horrible dream
I am hoping some editor somewhere
Seized me on the word that there is a person
Is a person who is begging and crawling and scraping
And running a nail across an old-fashioned chalk blackboard
Is craves to be heard
Marc Isaac Potter (we/they/them) is a differently-abled writer living in the SF Bay Area. Marc’s interests include blogging by email and Zen. They have been published in Fiery Scribe Review, Feral A Journal of Poetry and Art, Poetic Sun Poetry, and Provenance Journal. Twitter is @marcisaacpotter.
photo: Fukushima Breeze
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