Musings of the Reverend Meduri and Dr. Jackass
out of my ear:
"Come clean, wipe it clear"
She lets it sit on the floor
as if the carpet laid bare
could cover more
than an ear could spare
but the drippings leak
because seals break
over time and plausibility
she sits with thoughts dripping from her ear
as though she and I have nothing to fear
about food, about drink
about love and what we should think
"I do love my fellow man"
but she said she did not understand
"Is it sexual, sensual; this love?"
All I could do was hold her hand
Waiting for the day when my ear drips
will drop in my hand and I'll collect them
for paper, pen, and plan.
Then they'll all understand.