Seemingly Strange
by Joe Dickinson
You’ve become and idiot
one of the mess, the herd
the stroke catastrophe
wading into the waters of the night
as if a love of life
was not on your menu
but instead
was your rite of passage
your meal of choice
with blood stained eyes you stare at me
as if i have lost my way
or said something so
horrible
as to offend
and offput
the very vices that society
has
offered me.
without sound
i move to the
light of the moon
and change the diapers
of dreary daisy’s
dysfunctional daughter.