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Poem- "Stressor" Afternoon is waning with other slopes to pass, Even during cheeseburgers with nothing to mass; Settled dust craves over these hills as one, Thus to equate worn plants on Dirty Mon, I likely grant red coffee above real Padres none, To perceive smacked gloves around big baseball bends they’ve won. My diet confession for bubbles makes this tummy clear and ripe, That health on dispute remains to be sane under star onto stripe; So Alex Talk burns me to shivers like July Christmas, Quenching ice on tongue before I reach mom’s salad fungus. *It's been said that with my schizophrenia, I can taste things others can't. 'Salad fungus' is a phrase my dad uses to describe bleu cheese dressing, 'July Christmas' is a celebration of Jesus in the summer, and 'Big Baseball Bends' refers to baseball stadiums. This poem is verse with variable sounds, and there's enough random language here to create my schizophrenic allusions. I think one of the jobs of poets is for them to create new language. In other words, I dare to break some rules of grammar by simply following grammar rules with odd vocabulary. Oddness and humor are among my talents, so the poem's enigmas to me are quite pleasant if not mystifying.