A found poem. . . .


Psychopath


I’m a psychopath.
Boogered.
A chair and me float past each other;
I’m going to float off for good this time.
Hooeee. . . I’m tired!

Disruption
Wait just a shake, honey;
what are these 2 little capsules in here with my
vitamins?
Gumdrop?
Hostility?

Disruption
like a bell boy changing in the fog.
Door opening in front of me to the acid
smell of sparks and ozone
oozing across the floor.
A mistake was made in manufacturing
skin like flesh colored enamel zombies
(the whole bunch was crazy loons).

I’m a boogered psychopath.
Tired!

By Brenda


Source: Kesey, Ken. One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest. Part 1. New York: Signet, 1963. Print.