oregano
i can unwrite a poem with one finger on a keyboard.
and it becomes unwritten.
i can break a promise and lose four months of work in a single breath.
i can turn your insides without touching you i can
spill you out of me.
i can send myslef into a darkness you cannot follow me into
i can keep myself there
i can find you no matter where you've been
i can skip the intro, flip to the end and skim the pages for answers
before you have a chance to ask the questions.
i can keep up with jets and flying candlesticks and silver knives
and nascar drivers.
just remember that for next time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the doctors told the boy he was going to die. she and i, we spent all morning spilling over books, spilling into her training manuals, our vast 'alternative' knowlege - mostly hers. we pulled the books from the back shelf, we called the homeopaths and the naturopaths and the chiropractors. we typed every letter of every word of his disease, of his prognosis, of what we had to offer, we read every word. we talked and argued and talked and argued and talked and argued and disagreed and came up with a plan. the boy's mother came, we arranged our solution in front of her, our best, our only guesses......
she called us a week later.
and you can say what you want about me, about any of it, but i swear to you
oregano oil saved his life.
my job isin't ALL bad.