This is nice. Very Simple.
There used to be a lady in Bellingham when I went to college at Western who would walk around town arguing with herself. Sometimes when I was fly fishing in the bay near the railroad tracks she would walk past. She would always say “hello”, so she must have been aware of what was going on around her, but then she’d go right back to her argument with the voices in her head. Thought of her today for some reason and jotted down this short poem.
A Dating Service for Schizophrenics
I decided the voices in my
head were just lonely,
aching for another with
multiply tongues and phrases
spinning through the neurological
mist. So they all got Tinder memberships
And kaleidoscopic Facebook pages
Where they can friend and unfriend
All they dramas they stir up in that
Bazaar conference call in my head. I won’t sign them up…
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stephenvollmer 