Thursday, May 20, 2021

dear pain by Scott Ferry

i hope you don’t think you are moving in
all that is left of your horde is a broken labelmaker
stuck in my femur
dear anxiety stop yelling at my son when he throws
his pears on the ground and gives you a squinty grin
dear inadequacy no i can’t do the chores when the storm
shudders the blood like a flag
dear love i keep forgiving the way you hurt
when do you begin giving like in the commericals?
dear pain yes pain you remind me there is no opium
in fizzy water there is no balm in war
dear self-depreciation please pick your sorry scrotum off
the camera lens and wash your damn feet
dear strength we gave alms at church when the savior
was supposed to rise up and deliver resplendent tubeworms
but nothing grew at this depth
dear laughter fuck you yes you stick that levity up
your business hole you haven’t been helping
dear god what is the light for when it is painted
in the clouds so far up what is the light for?
dear children be patient with the person
who is supposed to teach you patience
dear self i know you are still singing down
in one of those lava shoots sometimes i hear the ash of
a trumpet in a voice of my youth
dear wife you deserve better you hold up the house
like a glorious chorus
dear pain i hope you know that your millipedes lack luster
i hope you know i have plans to run again with a million legs

Scott Ferry helps our Veterans heal as a RN. He has recent work in the American Journal of Poetry, Misfit, and Spillway. His second book, Mr. Rogers kills fruit flies, is available from Main St. Rag. You can find more of his work @



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