Technicalities, Submerged.

sitting through this blatant lecture
of how and when and why
i doodle seahorses &
flip my mermaid’s tail – in time
to inward seaweed smiles.

at 8:34am i pray
(through glyphs and flowing ink),
that my hand will always be small enough
to fit into
reality’s gaps.


Modern Health Care(lessness)

promise bubbles
drift from eager tongues,

we stack
our shelves with discarded humans,
label them ‘dysfunctional’,
and turn our backs
on benevolence,
while the door sign
tells hypertrophic tales,
and money-stained hands
the Sword of Damocles home.