Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The Gerbils In My Head

Yes, indeed. What if they get out? C’mon…this is serious work, deep, allegorical. There is an esoteric spiritual meaning. This poem took decades to get the experience to stand on. I wrote it standing up wearing my hair shirt and cilice. I wrote it at the high desk in the ink I ground myself, writing by the light of a tallow candle flickering and sputtering. I muttered as I wrote, a kind of breathless prayer that He who left me here would support my hope. The poem I would rather have written is fathoms deep, embedded in the words of this one. See past the gerbils if you can. Or not. Heh.

The Gerbils In My Head

It was bad enough
when I had gerbils running
on the little wheel
in my caged old head
all night long but then they got
loose and are chewing
new holes in my brain
where I don't need any holes.

What if they get out?

March 31, 2009 12:37 PM


  1. I like the simple unease of it behind a simple (and amusing) image. It kind of sounds like if William Carlos Williams dropped acid. Maybe you should invest in a Habitrail running the length of the inside of your skull?

  2. And just how am I supposed to get that contraption in my head? Oh. Yeah. Same way I got the gerbils in there.

  3. I am so not going here.....ahahahaaahahahahahaaaa


  4. Another hole in my head? Oh, no!

  5. You guys are trying to take this personal. I made no suggestions that I was willing to share any of my gerbils. I need these guys to gnaw through the leather straps each morning.

  6. I couldnt help but smile at this one Chris......and I needed a smile today.

  7. Me too. Smilings good. Love you, Cherie.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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