WOODEN WORDS

Playing scrabble,
strategizing in
a puzzled word.

It’s all a goddam
game, I say.

A balance of power
like the legislative
and judicial branches
fucking in the bushes,
White House bushes.

Psychology, the enemy
like a nonexistent God,
it whispers from my
closet like an annoying
mad monkey.

If you believe the tree
made a noise in the woods,
then it did, I say.

It’s the same way with
psychology, God, love.

Sometimes I find that
love is simply a chemical
reaction, like a chemical
pregnancy, not quite
sticking.

Like a scrabble word
begging for a pre-fix.

Your move.