….
, some oyster-gray wind
merely be
-witched by the luscious
sweet of a plum(e),
the dust of a kiss.
clumsy as I am
(the worms know better),
there’s a madman in my
smile, and our drool is id
-entical.
so far,
i have tried
electroshock therapy,
Skeezix strips
and ice cubes
melting like the virgin mary
but this little piggy
(hand, hand, fingers,
thumb)
has been to market
one too many times;
this far and wee wee wee
all the way home
has grown old. i am a
squaw with unintended
signals. i am a wandering
soul, waiting. i am a wand.
…
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
You’ve moved me deeply with this. It’s playful and fun, but it’s also horrifyingly close to home. This is quivering-in-a-corner good.
“there’s a madman in my smile, and our drool is id-entical”
“i am a squaw with unintended signals”
Incredible ending. Incredible poem.
Let us pray for this poor lost soul. I imagined this to be a narrative from beyond – and yes, we should first whisper something holy in order to counteract the lack of holy of this poor soul.
By the way, I love the phrase “oyster-gray wind” – just the idea that the wind could have different colors! And then: “the dust of a kiss.”