What red wouldn’t do.
Just one drop from this cut
Contains in its viscous sphere
All vitality, all passion.
I know I run urgently
Oxygen depleted to the heart.
Do I seem angry, impatient
In a hurry – get out of my way?
I’ve got to go. I get hot.
I’ve got to go my own way,
Take the short cut if I must.
I’ll end if I don’t.
Sorry can’t stop and wait for your
Understanding – easy amble around
The glorious estate. Your soothe
Supple sweet pulse – relax take
Your shoes off attitude.
I’m desperate, compelling
Don’t look me in the face if
I displease you.
Now I am oxygen spent, weak, perhaps one last
Gasp. I’ve got to make it to the heart.
It’s only me, circulating, all that matters.

Kathryn McDonnell
February 2006 – 2007