Poem: Anxiety Disorder

This originally appeared in Kill Poet #9. Kill Poet is one of the most innovative and ferocious journals on the web. It is run in a psycho-delic way by editors who brutalize the norm and don't seem able to adjust to 'reality.'

Good for them. I wish them the best on their dangerous journey.

To fight the empire is to be infected by its derangement

Phillip K. Dick

Read my review of Kill Poet, if you wish:

Dangerous Stuff

Carry Forth,

Owl

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Anxiety Disorder

stress wears her shark and wasp dress
to the dance and of course i
get stuck to her hip even though
she’s chemical and illusion,
peace killer and nerve strangler,
maenad of cardiocide.

but we rumba close and fast
to the edge of the stairs, dip into peril
that has to run,
foxtrot and lindy hop,
disrupting waltzes
and wrecking pavanes.

nothing cute in my twists or her spider jive,
just a seizure
doing its best to be covert.
no one can see her either,
just that dandy disintegrating me.
breath-starved clown bumbling on a precipice,
hag- and sweat- and hurt-ridden.

a solo zugzwang
with my organs for chesspieces.
either the white or the black silk
of the social burial shroud has checkmated me.
it doesn’t matter.



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