Clockwork

I appreciate the warm fuzzies

Kim Kardashian got when she met

the lovely Thai orphan.

Lately,

I can’t look at any toddler

without a certain feminine ticking

becoming almost audible

to the wider world.

But I lack the disposable income

to even consider meeting, adoring, and relocating

a random child I met on some vacation

when parenthood was the last thing on my mind.

The Other Side of Green

inspired by the short film of the same name, veiwable at:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SL_oRhjKAjE

Trading my contacted, spastic, wheelchair using,

often pain addled, scarred body became more of acceptable

fantasy with the femur’s sickening crack

that exposed problem after problem with my lower limbs

and introduced hoyer lift into mobility equipment regime.

But would that person go to jail for justice,

chair her town housing authority, and be classified

as a writer by the IRS.

Or

would she be stuck in a pointless 9-5,

only intersecting with politics

on Election Day.  Her  poetic work

squeezed into hours meant for sleep.

Saturday...

I rise…

consume…

read…

                sicken…

nap…

awake…

correspond…

assist…

lament…

                share…

compose…

Post Apocalyptic Shopping Spree

This place smells of dude funk, leather,

and some oils my nose can’t place.

I’m here to purchase the perfect present

for überfemme I’ve been matched

with in an internet gift exchange in honor of

the supposedly coming apocalypse.

I wonder through aisle after aisle

eying total scent removal body washes

as my young lady’s boasted of foraging skills

will be foiled by the scents I’m certain

she bathes in.  

Compasses and paracord also appeal,

as do battery powered lamps to be mailed,

of course, complete with batteries.

But, for today,

I leave with nothing bought;

but head full of ideas

as I hope for lower fees, but similar items,

at my local flea market tomorrow afternoon.

Glad Tidings

From the sick bed I vow to leave tomorrow,

as 24 vomit free hours will have passed,

e-mail brings joyous news:

Uganda’s own Constitutional Court just declared

its country Anti-Homosexuality Act illegal.

Hated law declared, in part, "aggravated homosexuality" –

 defined as someone with HIV having gay sex

or gay sex with anyone vulnerable,

such as a disabled person –

 were put in prison for life.

My own, indeed many people’s, agency stolen,

as if impairment rendered brain dysfunctional from outset.

Today, I use verse to toast the return of so much collective dignity.

Sparking

Apocalypse gift exchange

brings tidbit excessive kit

complete with reading material,

knife and sharpener, metal rape whistle,

lock/key combo, and compass.

Corded black and orange paracord

make whistle, lock/key, and compass

easier for my cerebral palsy fingers to grab.

Literary muse takes off,

realizing that dystopian angle removes YA lost love story

from copyright infringement territory

though I still plan to thank both gifter

and deceased author hose decade's past work inspired 
what the manuscript involved into in my dedication, 

should I ever get it published.