August 27, 2016Bioman, Flash, Poem, Poet, Poetry, The Daily Writ, Uncategorized Leave a comment Concaved Headed Stun-gun Guy My brain is concave Where it shows the indent Of all the cognitive therapies I have endured for the sake Of the Law When I know That it is no good To kill someone When they live nextdoor And not on the limb of the tree adjacent To yourn. I will seek a count Of the number of times I have Threatened to kill someone And compare it to The number of countdown Numbers in the score Of cards Called the Eagle. One. And for that I have been ensconced in the Mental Health system For ten years without criminal trial But treated as if I am criminally Insane. Copyright B E Saunders 2016 Share this:TwitterFacebookPrintLinkedInEmailLike this:Like Loading...