Poem of the Day 3.10.17

Poems rattle around my brain like loose batteries living in a junk drawer.

WRITE ME! each poem screams when I dare to look;
I close the drawer fiercely.
I can’t write you,
I can’t write you!
And I definitely can’t write you.
That’s too much of me.

Try again later:
Like when I lose my keys and search the drawer,
and I think of all the others things I’ve lost.
I scan it’s contents for the coupon I swore I had,
I swore I could trust my dad too.

Stop.

Go to sleep poems.
Let me have a moment where life doesn’t spring up in metaphor.
A moment where I’m not cataloging every detail
to pick apart later and select the best pieces
like a butcher.

 

-Liz Loughran

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s