Today's poem is by Billi MacTighe
Coping With Mental Illness
I hugged a baby gator and the Natives
worshiped me. Maybe it was Georgia.
It feels like a supermarket parking lot.
But it's hard to tell sometimes.
Seagulls will eat anything.
Everything was a form of surrealism, then.
But what would I know. Really.
If you were asking for me,
they would have pointed to the clouds.
The high-up ones, ice crystals.
Only strangers could understand.
Some people don't know what it's like
to be choked by a collar.
That's why dogs eventually stop pulling.
Copyright © 2014 Billi MacTighe All rights reserved
from Rock & Sling
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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