Chuck Von Nordheim
What the Psychoanalyst Said When Asked About His Purchases
Living beyond the warm light of the ego, bent shades lurk unknown to the lurker.
The conscious self owns up to the purpose of donning an avatar’s domino.
Armored in anonymity, subjects can deflect the flames of outside judgment.
One can unleash libido, so cloaked, without harming their official persona.
But what psychic force compels the 2am purchase of microwave egg poachers?
Especially when sent to a house that eschews the bane of radar cookery?
One must reject Bacchic excuses since libations only free inhibitions—
Instead, such incidents provide evidence of the action of dark archetypes.
Our shadow selves yearn for opposites, which explains this heap of Amazon boxes.
Chuck's an Air Force vet who returned to college after 22 years of service, earning an MFA from CSU San Bernardino. Now he scours Mojave Desert garages for Highway 66 memorabilia he can sell on EBay to pay his student loans. His poetry has appeared in Poetry Quarterly, Statement, The Five Two, Amaranth Review, Penumbra and Northridge Review.