When I Walk I Speak

When I Walk I Speak

Talking to myself again
Walking down the street,
Is it schizophrenia,
Tourette’s or a cell phone tweet?

These thoughts are just the bed
For tulips in the freezing dawn
The place where voices in my head
Startle still a doe and fawn.

This onion skin of thought stained
Pale by the fiery iridule of brain
Erupts in the air from my throat’s flu
And the watermarks of loss show through.