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Sutures
by Michael Channing
my day can’t begin
til i hork up and spit out
my daily mouthful of blood
into the sink
into the shower to slide down darkly
a blurry passage through
the water and the soap and
the fear and the hope that
something is happening beyond
my control
only then can i tie my laces
and lace up my tie
and walk groggy into
the antiseptic sun
Leaves a Bloody Stain
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Plague in the Time
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Scrapbook
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Formerly a Bird
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Speak No Smoke
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Thank You
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Nothing Wrong
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