the darkness called and I went
looking there upon the edge
The ambulance and samaritan
took first my watch and shirt
and threw me out again
and others taking pity
collected services

and they

threw me in/ the back of the radio car/the crash bus

dispensed my pharma meds
took my temp
and kept me in

The Glue my friend I know all well
befriending others whom have
known this route so well

You write with barbed wit and pen
excellent
I would expect no less from a
man of discipline
and time spent

devoted to the craft of words
and expression
a kind of mental and spiritual
obsession

Geremia you still Rock!

thank You

long ago I hung out with film extras

Purplemoondoll

Okay
wrapped about

I have to go

will return tommorrw

I still can't believe that a man so sick as thee

has the sense of humour
we all want to cherish
and among those
who feel like dead,
we want to banish…

you are the soul of life today,
exploit your illness, in any way
as you may
but I shall never believe
that from the doldrums of agony,
they won't ever,
you relieve.

your words of pain
I hear again,
as sounds of music
from the lover’s heart
in pain yes,
from a lover's angle
but not from one
who lives in disdain

If only it was so easy, we could sell that special glue, along with your wit. Wil we ever laugh, if we don't believe in the humour of our life. Nice poem Regards Roscoe..

I get a most wonderful picture of you Joe,
dancing about
with the splinters falling about you like nine-pins,
and sharp arrows,
hoping that all of it gathers up
into a whole once again
and completes your cure.

The glue of the mind,
the glue of life's particles
ever moving in many directions,
gathering and separating,
forming ourselves,
and forming our other selves.

Anni