October Poem 40: On Planning My Plans to Plan

The future. Tomorrow. I will make plans.

You’ve seen the scar. I’ve shown you before. It

Pinches at the deep red hole in my scalp. The

Hole surrounded by puckered and drying

Skin. The hole that three days ago was much

Larger and weeping puss. If I keep it

Free and bleeding it should heal with the red

Gelatin of the future blackening

Into a plan brushed with hog’s hair on white

Textured paper, a sumi image from

A master artist of Japanese form.

With the blood like Aaron’s precious oil

On my head dripping down onto my beard

And the collar of my shirt. To make plans.

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