Collaborations of a Fractured Mind

Collaborations of a fractured mind (yes, me, myself & I);
spirit animals chastised for not staying in their cage.

I’m no laureate but when
personalities divide,
insanity’s all the rage
in this limerick of mine.

What happens to
free verse when
A-B-A-B takes
precedence, maybe?

Grammar heretics on
a Ferris wheel of
transparent zeal,
rhyme schemes surreal,

lacking only in the
academic appeal they reject.

What about the parts of life that
don’t fit inside a couplet?

Get wrecked, I suggest,
like Saturday nights encapsulated
in drunken texts,
hidden
affections
multiplied and
self-medicated,

until the blackouts reach their
apex,
reincarnated
jests,

every stupid thing
I ever said
magnified as the
side effects of

unconventional written therapies of
undigested trauma.

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