Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Whatever the mind quack said
She never quite got to the roots

As he suggested never quite got
To see where her mother’s words

Mattered that much or where he
Her mother’s man got his weird

Ideas about things concerning her
And do you know what? She asks

Herself I don’t give a fuck but she
Knows she does deep down knows

That all things connect in the end
Like some huge spider’s web all

Tangle all connect all sticking to
And from and through and as she

Sits there taking in the quack’s eyes
The colour the way his words drift

On the air fart like and his way of
Playing with his pen between his

Fingers as if some playful penis and
Uncrossing her legs and she wonders

If he looked up the skirt in the
Moment of movement whether

His staring eyes are undressing her
Removing her clothing piece by piece

But all the time using those difficult
Words those concepts as if he were

Outside the pond outside the stagnant
Waters and can I smoke? She asks can

I light up? Not in here he replies outside
In the grounds afterward after our session

He adds and she wonders if he fucks his
Wife in such a manner all orderly all things

In their place stuffing her from the rear not
Face to face and she wants a smoke and

Wants to feel it hit her throat and fill her
Lungs unclutter her mind and he the quack

As mother said the blind leading the blind.

I've met this one...just not sure from which side of the counseling relationship...very human...and, vivid in its internal dialogue, respectful in its interactions...seemingly...less fake than it is fittingly human.

enjoyed reading this

thank you, Joel & Snowman.