Fungus Poem by Robert Macdonald

Short on dope
And short on inspiration
A cat’s claw
A dull fungus in the iris
Elation Elation

When you sacrificed the ticket
I had to feel sad
Because I’m just not here these days

You smiled sadly
Not knowing who you’d made
Or how you measured up
To grey hair glasses and gin

First comes bright light
Then comes blindness
When you stare into the sun

Sinking in the fuzzy walls
Warm memories grow cold
An autumn day recedes from dawn to dusk

The smiles aren’t cheap
Plundered from stockpile of rotten needs
The roads are blocked the cows diseased
The stars don’t explode just crumble to dust
Old bicycles sit still and gather rust