We went to Dee’s for dinner
& I got into her medicine cabinet.
I floated through dessert
like a starry night. My internist,
a good guy, really, but he wears
these beads & tells stupid jokes.
I kept dropping hints-
I pee all night. I break things.
I forgot a jacket somewhere.
Would Valium help? Or
something stronger? He acts
like I’m Van Gogh waving
a butter knife. Remember
Joni Mitchell? How she
kidded around? Hey, man,
do “Starry Night” again, man.
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Comments about this poem (Starry Night by Jefferson Carter )
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