fisher king's wasteland

i have spilled ink onto a pristine page that curled around to form a cocoon to incubate my poem my secret poem i hold you up to the light though you are yet shrouded in dark delight i mutter your name as if it's not a vain action to fantasize you complete though your vocal chords aren't yet fully formed, the lines and folds of your letters direct my mind's eyes from the peaks of where yours will be to the troughs of answering whys though you will question me more than i can ever imagine the love i bear you is as much as i do myself as you promise to deliver me from a shelved life to center stage from a mixed metaphor to a saviour of an age and i will watch over you i will nurture you and hold you and guide you and you you will be better than me you will be sharp and clean and clear and you will know no fear of facing the world for i will weaponize you, a weapon of mass construction whenever you play it will be to change the game and you won't ever leave...

in recent history witches and wizards from around the world have been gathering sharing their knowledge and insights and spells and inscribing them in giant, dark tomes the diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders, or DSM, is one such volume of incantations, and the initiated have merely to mumble its words to enchant or curse but rites once performed in dark corners now take place in broad daylight personal curses have become community property subject to community scrutiny personal curses have become a community responsibility we must fix the broken though we may have broken them ... human brains operate on stories and we need those stories to make sense mental trauma is the result of encountering real-life plot holes and plot holes are like black holes, we’re trapped by them, held fast by them until their two sides, their two opposing universes can be glued together again glued together with good stories a good story is a safe worm...