Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 9




Barnum, Bailey & Me


When I wake to find a whip and a chair by the side of my bed I know I am in for a circus of a day and the tears of this clown will not change a thing. I ready myself for the tightrope walk and watch out for stray elephants. All the trained poodles in the world can’t make this into a day in the park. Painted ponies prance through their paces; I try to stick to my own act, meanwhile remembering that no matter how difficult these routines may be it still beats a seat in the stands.






Raffle off the surplus grit from your nitty gritty

*

MEGAPHONE

The point of surviving
Or maybe the goal after survival
Is enabling the voices of victims to be heard
Starting with my own.

I allow the surging waves of thought and feelings
To rush the gates and exit
I try to bleed the bad
With and without the use of leaches.

So much is stumbled upon rather than sought after,
Some things hound me, I run down the street
With memory at my heels
I must let the screams out or become them.

Today I talk, tomorrow is for others.
When I pour forth I open the way for the rest
I have become the megaphone
Rather than the cheerleader
It is good to be of use.