Thursday, April 7, 2016

Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out


I almost forgot how pretty you are,
And how something suspicious
surrounds you.
I am overwhelmed;
swallowing dirt
just to have something hit my lips.
Tune in: what’s that?
Nope, no one is sitting here.
I’ve lost my appetite.


I tune in just in time,
Why didn’t I write that down?
I follow this thought to a more civilized place -
How perfectly wretched,
Echoing in a British accent.
Eyes roll.
Page turns.
Sighs deep.
So deep, so deep,
Helm’s Deep.
Wait, how in the middle-earth did I get here?


I am surrounded by mothers.
Some Soon-to-be,
Others Wannabe.
Shouldn't I be
tuned in by now?
That palm reader in Queens said
I'd be a mother to three.
Seems improvident.
Highly improbable.
Somehow impossible.

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