Crazy, naked, or just strong?
Words stumble around phrases.
We find some (by someone with,
Words claim, schizophrenia),
Including Molly Brodak,
Proper noun for a woman
With a short, well-written life.
Right away, we think of Blake,
What that life must have been like,
Him with the early lost wife.
But then we drift to Cipher,
Her book of phrases we like,
Book cited by the phrases
The schizophrenic composed,
Schizophrenic according
To those phrases, but better
Now, apparently in part
Thanks to phrases in Cipher
Like, The holy spirit is
Itself nothing but two things.
We spot that line and nestle
In it like ducks on a pond,
Wriggling. Here’s food in comfort.
Stark lyricism is just
That moment of contentment
When words are, as words, enough.
Schizophrenic, as a word,
Is not enough. That essay,
Though, seems starkly lyrical.
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