The Doorbell rings
I peer through the peep hole
Two huge men I see
Crew cuts, wearing white jackets
Finally
They've come for me
I thought
I stealtily escaped
Out the back door
Unseen, unheard, thank God
I once talked to a man
While laying on a couch
Said a few things
He didn't comprehend
Explained about shadows
Once seen in a dream
Of lines crossing intersections
On flowers and twigs
Branches of trees and prints
On forest walls
Shades that formed shapes
In my head
While trying to sleep
Resting on my bed
He prescribe a pill
To sedate me instead
Suggesting an appointment
To visit him at his asylum
No way Jose
Will I be sedated
My words might be misinterpret
Placing me, in the security
Of a cuckoo's nest
So he can Pay
For his new Benz
He won't be writing down
My slurs
Of sedated speech
And unfocused thoughts
Twisting them
Into his own selfish ends
While driving away in his new Benz
My wife answered the doorbell
They were delivering
Her new Couch.


By: William Bonilla
12/22/04