A dusting of flour for rolling out the dough
Emollient cream on the rashy bottom
And where the clearing meets the forest
Poison ivy grows

I was wrong to steal the image of an iron cage
More a sugary proteiny sheath constricting yes
But also pliant to permit a certain license
Children at their play lovers at their ecstasy

Those irrepressibles
Learn the routines of compliance
Step on a crack and
Perform the rites mysterious and

Greetings my fellow sufferer
Susceptible like all things to the environment
And yet my pain’s asserting itself
Distracts me from yours the multitudinous