Signifying nothing

How's this for messing with you?

There is no dream In the disease of sleep Meatloaf please Here you go There is no sleep In the disease of dreams I'm sorry, I was only kidding Are you visiting someone? You're a patient? You don't look like a patient. I don't? Did you choose this place? Why? Where else is there? And somehow we wake up Each day, a simple mantra Of self-loathing on our lips Give me a Rob Roy On the rocks. My mother doesn't think So. I receive medication For what Stored up like your Father That's what I hear That's what I didn't want to do I didn't want to tell you I didn't want to tell you You know you made me love You. It was nice talking to you Too. Take me away from this Place. How's it going? How's it going? My son has disappeared. That's how I feel. Hi. That's really nice. He'd die without me. Hello. Hello.  I need to talk to You. Hello. Are you all right? Yeah. The s...

IPad Note Poem no 8: the psoriatic It starts on the calves The skin reddens Swells and itches It is only later that The scales come If they come at all And then the shame Follows Of course, it is known That it is not one's Fault. No pecuniary Damage can be assessed But tell that to the In-born savage who Sees patterns in the Cracking skin: the Mark of the Devil The hooves of the beast Kicked hard into the Shins So one applies ancient Balm that smells of Pitch and sulfur, Muttering two word Prayers to a god Too angry to remove The curse Oh God Oh God Oh God And one believes And one repeats And one remains The itching of the Skin subsides An abiding God Resides Recalling the cold Past where we Swam deep in Tropical waters And our skins Were hardened For a purpose Not beyond Reckoning Where the only God was to swim On to the next day With no feeling In our flinty Hides Our past Hides beneath Supple skin, waiting For the winter Morning when it Will break forth To protect us From some...