changing the diet has amazing results–

why, just the simplest substitutions make all the difference!

Take, for example, my

daily intake…

foregoing my usual brekkie of

panick-cakes & agghhhs!!!

I chose surreal—a new one—instead,

and sure I made the cakes

but I let them congeal,

standing on teetering tippy toe to grab a

better choice

and yeah, I fell a couple of times reaching in that cabinet,

but at least I wasn’t running from precedent.

After a fulfilling bowl

of nutty bits of faith, and O shaped hope

I pollinated my Arrowhead with

bee-leaf—and maybe that’s sorta New Age

but what the hey.

It’s less lethal that way, and

the chia seeds I’d tried before had only served to make my rhetoric

visibly wild and woolly, and all health benefits aside—

f*ck that.

Then for lunch, well lunch,

I untwisted the corkscrew pasta that was my gut

(these days)

and tried bandages

~lots and lots of bandages~

to stop that infernal bleeding,

(heart problem)

washing it all down with a dose

of blood thinners

–trying to lighten up, you know, and be the light

that was dim some.

then for dinner,

it was Lamb.

Of course it was Lamb, and a side of

crucifix-erous veggies, ‘cause I know which side my

bread is buttered on

(You-Christ)

and maybe this sounds irreverent, but I’m

not changing for You.

Never have.

by good, of course

infer good-bye,

oh hell, by that

I’m meaning

hi

–and hay!

I hope this don’t stack odds

uneven, and you bale

because–

I only meant to say

hello

oh ell oh ell

plus H,

you know…

I’m paper

–thusly stationary–

but long to fly

) no aviary (

to limit flight

but wild and free

as uncaged bird is what I’d be…

my first attempt

to Wright

–went wrong

I rolled in spit

and shot through straw–

and took a hit

when backdraft blew,

that spitwad back

in lieu of flew…

on second flight

I fared no better,

becoming kite

the size of letter

–head, but several excess tales

/// assured ///

the worded kite would fail…

I turned within

and puffed hot air!

hoping to set sail from there–

sky lanterns can burn up on high

but frilly me, was shy a light

I tried so much!

no lie—the fax,

diminished me

to toned syntax,

and missing matter

messed the mark

no–faxing proved a disembark

…

of snail mail

I wasn’t fan

and fanning femme

was not my plan,

andcrimpedandcramped

my disposition

–bent like hell //

and still

transition

from blotter to a soaring swan–

eluded me

‘til pollygone

of fan I made

but would not hold,

inspired what was final fold

and taking on a brand new hobby,

I taught myself to origami

pleating in a new-learned crease

–a doubled over, time release—

changed paper me

to quilly flier

note to self:

paste Post-its higher…