Rx

[Brownlie]

"Rx"

Catatonic wacko
weaved in a shroud
from the
finger of Freud,
white linen,
drug drooled.

Gravy-rich passion,
yawning now,
aplomb wit
etherized,
yellow mind
goo.

Dynamo
magic melts
from serum pharm,
while my shrink
sleeps with
scripted contentment.

Intervenors, saviors,
fornicate freedom's
kaleidoscope,
covered by a
Depakote lens.

New periodic table
bends my will,
dulling the dagger
like afternoon rain,
like decaf drip,
like drone dreams.

Still I played roulette
in the yolk
of the Urals,
my own elixirs,
rewiring retired
neurons into
dancing daggers.

I gaze at the graves of Freudian flunkies.
The tail of the dragon dug their furrow.

From a maze in a fray of backpack monkeys,
pressing on with a passion to touch tomorrow.

I don't know how much experience you've had with poetry and I don't want to lead you astray, but I will give you my two cents. Have you considered your line breaks? Have you expressed any sentiments that could be shown in a more succinct manner? You have a series of terse lines followed by more prosaic longer lines was this done intentionally?