There’s something deeply wrong with you,
I just haven’t figured out what.
It could be that you’re a slave to carcasses
of biting fish
intent on separating
your inside from your outside.
Whenever you send me pictures
I always think
I’m finally going to see you naked;
maybe even skeletonized
but the landscapes and intangible shawls
are pretty good too.
You stride on watery-blue vapor
like a poetic upheaval
pushing through the red glare of delusion,
an ecstasy of madness and mockery
a quake of hypnotic brambles
and songbirds of imaginary numbers.
And when I send you pictures
of my chasm of menace
(an evocation of cinders and twitching eyelids)
I have to be sure
that you don’t get elliptical images
of unintentional obscenity
and now that I’ve said it
I can claim it was just an unfortunate
click of a mouse fumbling in rays of egress
worshipping your illness from afar
Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL, USA with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart, Best of the Net and Best of the Web nominee whose work has appeared in more than a thousand publications.