poem by Kevin T McEneaney
My brain has been shut down
by a majority of frontal brain cells
who claim a lack of nutrients
emerging from stomach and colon.
*
This consortium claims too much alcohol
is destroying proper gastronomic intake,
demanding carrots, tomatoes, and more greens.
*
My esophagus has introduced
indiscriminate deportation via vomiting,
sudden vomiting far from sinks.
*
I recall my youthful leaping days
when there were no odd radicals
swimming in my blood when building
sandcastles on the sunny beach.
How does one introduce sanity
during an exhausting shutdown?