ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 3
THE YEAR OF MY ABSENCE
a number of stones under my feet
had faces
the skin of my palms was made of glass
hermits kept crawling out of their caves
holding out their hands
for oreos
this is not what I intended to say
however I must stand by it
and what of the tall bellflower
standing in the garden of speech?
and what of Joe Pye's cure
for yellow fever?
I must endure the indignity of what's said
and with even a dog's luck
I could hang on a little or a lot longer
though it disturbs me that I wake myself
screaming what's my deductible