Saturday, November 21, 2020

Previously Published in Down in the Dirt . . .


I Hate

          waking up an hour before my alarm; forgetting
to put coffee in the filter, turning the pot on anyway; watching
the perky morning news(?) caster with her maniacal
smile and hair that never moves; waiting
for the traffic report that will inevitably re-route me
miles out of my way.

          crunching cruet de tat at my desk
as I work through lunch in hopeful attempt to climb
out from under the pile of folders, notes, to-do lists
threatening to bury me alive; the incessant chings,
dings, rings of electronic communications waiting
for response.

          squeezing in a run on a belted human hamster wheel
to counteract my increasing waistline tht has absolutely no
regard for my constant attempts to count calories; my limited
closet and budget that makes the former a necessity.

          finally climbing into comforting embrace of pillow
and bed to find no hope of sleep on the horizon; that my mind
won't shut out yesterday's drama, today's catastrophes, 
or the possibilities of tomorrow's crises; that right
at the precipice of complete exhaustion, the muse deigns to visit
and remind me of the price of daring to have even one
selfish dream of my own.

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