Poem Hunter
(01.01,72 / New Orleans, Louisiana)


Divine and white,
you’re an aspirin fit for the gods,
the powdery ghost of Gandhi
conjured into a bottle,
glorious as the bones of Buddha
ground into white dust.
How truly miraculous
the way you dissolve on my tongue,
like a peppermint, like a host—
the way you bury my grief
like a diamond ring, like a seed.

User Rating: 4,4 / 5 ( 4 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

As someone who had been put on Prozac (for a while) , and then been on Venlafaxine for more than half a year, I can really feel how strong this poem is. Thank you for sharing.
no u r wrong, it is an Illy dwarf disguised in drages designed to turn your soul into a peaceful white spongy widow, so that you don't feel the cracks.
Well, Chris, You sure have a penchant for apt metaphors. 'the powdery ghost of Gandhi', I love it! (your other ones, too.) I tell you, if it's prozac That enables you to write like you do, I just may try it!