| |
Mouth-breather
(with a nod to Rick Popish, Alex Vouri & others)
Living in a living building
turns out to be disappointment,
suffocates whoever’s good life
I’m trying to lead. It’s a given,
intermission wine will be shitty —
but the mouth-breather beside me
in yoga class makes me want to drop
a bottle of juice at Whole Food,
see if it spews back, not forth. Forget
the china in mom’s sacred hutch
or inane fear of getting undressed
in front of the dog. Reality
is really out there — not different,
depending on whose point of view.
I’ll never wish to be shaded
by banjo strings or eager to kiss a stick
of butter. My eagle pose might suck
but I exhale through my nose, follow
each breath to peace — my pronouns
floating free, escaping rusty barbs
on the roof-top garden fence.
(published by Quibble Lit) |
|
 Mary Dale Watercolor
|
|
