Limping into the lounge
I squint in the morning sun
The doctor phones
To ask
How I am getting on

I am a cauldron of dismay
Tears bubble vigorously
My hand reaches for tablets
Medical and technical
I read my feedback

When I recover
I want to cycle along the promenade
Go to halloween parties
Eat pecan pies
And get married

My first published essay
Was titled Why I Write (About Sex)
A nod to Orwell
Through you wouldn’t be able to tell
That he was my inspiration
I wrote badly
Full of hesitation
I wanted to sell my words so much
And see my name in print
I didn’t stop to think
That this essay would follow me to this day

It was in your bin
It’s hardly a sin
Taking something
You won’t want again
But it pained you
To see
Me
Get something for free
You throw things away
Without a care
I won’t apologise
And it won’t kill you to share

I’m a poop emoji
I don’t know what I’m doing
A study in dialectology
I’m a poop emoji
As melodic as a hoagy
Aggressively chewing
I’m a poop emoji
I don’t know what I’m doing

🌻
Scattered
Absent-mindedly
With a heart of joy
🌻
Sewn
On a Sunday
At Granddad’s house
🌻
Spring
Comes during chaos
Sweetly
🌻
Sunshine
Warms our faces
As we Skype
🌻