“His mind’s all black thickets and blood”
Jim Harrison (Songs of Unreason)
I sit with him
he is covered in black treacle
not the viscous sweet gum beaten from the cane
that runs, for the best of times, into the old rum stills
just the tarred impediment to movement
he has come begging for distraction, inspiration
a long escape ladder for the elephant trap
of his molasses mind – but I shun that kind of touch
and despite all the dumb insults
he knows we have to lick him clean
[tar baby refers to any “sticky situation” that is only aggravated by additional involvement with it]
Touching on the therapy of depression for Jilly’s pick of Jim Harrison quotes as poetry prompt : Day 23 of 28 Days Unreason
PoetryPix 