Sunday Poems XXVII

Lately, I’ve been very interested in organizing my life. I have less time than I’d prefer to be self-directed in and that makes it vital to be as focused as possible in the time I do have. Organization is so necessary for me, because without ordering systems, the likelihood that I will forgo eating and sleeping is pretty much overwhelming.

I have ADD, and one of the primary effects of ADD is to severely inhibit a person’s executive functions. Executive functions include task switching, the awareness of time, balancing stimulus, waking up in the morning, going to sleep, short term working memory, and of course, staying focused. Someone with difficulties with executive functions can find themselves living according to the mystifying whims of their body; they forget to eat because they’re too focused on a task they love, and can’t switch away from it, then eventually get very hungry, but still can’t do anything because they are paralyzed by their focus on the pain in their stomach. They start worrying that something is seriously wrong to cause as much pain, and this worry causes them to lose track of time and miss an appointment. Now they are consumed by guilt at having let down their meeting partner, still haven’t eaten, and all of this stimulus has now exhausted the brain and they feel very sleepy. Of course, despite feeling very sleepy, they have too much going on to actually fall asleep and end up staying up long past when they would have normally slept until finally they collapse of exhaustion, still not having eaten. In the morning their body is so delirious and uncomfortable from hunger and lingering stress that the next day is likely to be posessed by a similar lack of control.

These days are not too out of the ordinary for me. And they’re also the stuff of my nightmares. So I’m very concerned with how I can manage to play the role of my own boss more effectively– without totally destroying my relationship with myself of course.

I’m working on it.

Sundays are good days to realize that you haven’t been sleeping. This has been a theme lately. You can take a midday nap and skip the coffee. You won’t sweat coffee that way. You go for a walk instead. There’s the grey cat with white mittens which lives on the next block. They run away from you and under a parked car. You just have to sigh and keep walking. Below is a poem. Consider showing it to a sibling who might like poetry. As always, if you need to talk, I’m here. Have a great week, everybody.


a perfect haircut

adjusting the vine to run along the bookshelf.

it’s breakfast,
trees reaching up.

something’s always reaching up.

this skin don’t see the sunlight
this skin is sloughing off.

this place is in public
this world is quiet
and everything
is perfect.

these butts are low
and it’s ok.

it’s ok,
you know it’s ok.

a perfect haircut,
body measurements
get just a little more
like this.

like this,
just a little more.

your brother with the haircut in the other chair.

the sun on the face repairing the damage from air on his face.

it’s ok
when the moon is overhead
and i’m not the only entity
reflecting sunlight
to you.


Originally published April 10, 2016.

Theodore Fox is a poet living on Treaty Six land in Canada.
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