Billy Collins, “Like pills, for the head, and the heart.” Don’t tell me poems are pills for the head and heart. I’m already addicted for pity sake. How terribly, incredibly, and politically insensitive. Are you saying, I need to shoot up? I’m already caffeinated, marinated, and steeped in poetry. If I get anymore out of control, my wife would claim that I hemorrhage free verse, blank and haiku. Don’t tell me poems are pills, they are blade driven, bone biting, soul penetrating, tools of surgical precision.
Mark Weinrich is a cancer survivor, a retired pastor, gardener, hiker, and musician. He has had over 435 poems, articles, and short stories published in numerous publications, some include The Upper Room, Birds and Blooms, New Mexico Magazine, Ideals, The Secret Place, and Live. He has also sold eight children’s books and currently has two fantasy novels on Kindle.