When I wake, I am
surrounded by mind
mischief telling me
how futile my life
is and it’s true, my
existence is a misery.

But I have to accept
the things I cannot change.

When Heaney was
asked, “what does it
take to be a great poet”
he responded, PAIN.

According to the diagnosis
there was no magic pill or
potion for his discomfort,
the prognosis was just write.

I was recently asked,
“why are you such a prolific poet”

It is because Bob is my doctor too.


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Ryan O'Leary
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