The Fiend

A poem on the many forms of addiction.

Image of the author by Kirsten Bode

Days revolve
around
and spin
spin

away

like a toy ballerina
breaking loose
from her disco music
box

now
more babies
than ever before

utter tragic fiends
for everything:

the fiend for wine
or any liquor she can find
in she house
to keep her
from bedtime

fiend for sleep
for touching snooze
over and over
“just
one more
please”

the fiends for dreams
for reliving
trying to revisit them