Skip to main content

On Being a Diabetic (Rachel Jackson, Lafayette, LA)



As if they weren't tough enough, the normal ups and downs of life
The ups and down of blood sugar will further multiply the strife

It's a long and bumpy road the diabetic must traverse
Throughout the journey you need to pee and nothing can quench your thirst

It's rising agitation after milkshakes and potatoes
No jam or syrup at breakfast, for you it's plain ole' toast

Overestimate your dose and soon the see-saw hurdles down
You can't comprehend the world because its spinning round and round

Most of the time your lips just go numb, which might not seem so bad
Articulating words becomes that talent you never had

It's comparable to drunkenness but not so satisfying
It's being on a roller coaster that no one else is riding

Although I speak of this disease with tones of aggravation
Let me not forget to share my sinecerest appreciation

While the ups and downs and shots and stabs may tire my weary head
Had I been born a century ago, I'd certainly be dead


My stomach is quite full at times, but I must eat some more
Then when dinner time has come,

You cannot quit eating just because your stomach's feeling full
You have got to follow formulas and carbohydrate rules

Cookies, muffins, cakes and tarts are obviously not advisable
But who would think that beer and bananas 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This Little White Boy Who Wanted Some Nigger In Him (James Leland Ludeau III - Lafayette, LA)

Grew up on a plantation
Removed
Secluded from the world
I knew classes but didn’t understand race
Because what raced through my veins wasn’t something of which I could ever speak
My father could fuck the slave girls
But I couldn’t touch the men
It filled me with resentment
Fueled my resentment with lust
Until it was too much to take
It was a small contained community
White as the cotton in the fields
Only dark around the edges where the black men lived
Ploughing the fields
I’d imagine them ploughing me
Sinewy
Glistening with sweat as the sun bathed their shoulders
The sweat running down until it pooled around the waistband of their thin cotton pants
Their skin
Black, almost indigo, like night
Some like coffee with milk in it
Cafe au lait
I could smell their musk
Watched as their muscly bodies worked
I yearned
Burned
This little white boy who wanted some nigger in him
To fall beneath the weight of one
As he heaved
As he forced his throbbing cock into my crevice
I longed for even the pa…

"I Love You" is Enough (Louis Toliver Jr)

Please don’t stress I see what you do all year Everyday you show me Through your actions How much you care for me But please don’t stress It’s not money or possessions That make me give my life to you It’s the moments that are small When people don’t care to look That you show your love most So don’t stress to demonstrate What you already know you do Just say “I love you” and… My underwear will come off for you

Poet's Cry for Mike Tidewell (Barry Sons - Berwick, LA)

I heard the Politician say in a hunter’s whisper, “There’s a poet in the marsh, I heard one today. He was crying about the marshland’s accelerated decay.”
“Mr. Politician, can you help us anyway? I refuse to think our marsh is so quickly Going away. If we can scan the galaxy And bring men back from the dead, Why can’t we save our marsh? I can’t Get that around my head.”
There’s a poet in the marsh, I heard one today. Whining and crying; Who needs them anyway?” “Mr. Politician, I’m here to make you feel. Try to wrap your heart around the things that Are real. Like love and friendship passion and Sorrow; the love of earth and concern for tomorrow.”
“There’s a poet in the marsh, I heard one today." Mr. Politician, I cry for America’s wetlands,