When the fish is a fish
And the man is a man
The studious will say
The fish is a frying pan

Quoth the great Freud
“Sometimes...a cigar”
But the studious, annoyed,
Claim none ever are

When they’re taught that the fish
Is as good as a wish
They can make up their minds
To ignore every scar



Twas Shakespeare that set
By his own special brand
The pattern of work
For the studious hand

And as Carroll and Wilde,
Whitman and Marlowe,
Being similarly styled,
Would Assuredly know

That the birds and bees
Are all rats and fleas
When left to designs
That the studious sew

I can get no
traction

so I guess
it's best to let

the mind flow
and I've come

to understand
that sometimes

life
may or may
not  go

sideways

I'm ok with
that

Whit Howland © 2020

im looking for
a shift in emotion
people can sometimes
provide this motion

when I talk to you, it feels like I'm talking to a shell of a person.

slept on
but you kept on
checked by every shoulder
that you wept on

My eyes has been
wide open all night
like a corpse’s eyes

Would you come and
gently close them for
me so I can finally sleep?