on pain
to you i send
my desiccated head,
in jaded prose as dreary
as last year’s budget flicks;
the thrill of writing has fled like fleas
before an exterminator’s hose.
to you i leave
my ailing heart,
fatigued by thwarted hopes.
as laughable as it is,
i clutch at my delusions
that you will respond in kind.
