Are you getting a divorce?
Are you a near-deranged insomniac?
Is the woman of your dreams staying there,
only in the dreams?
Did your son complain of a stomach ache—
the kind you only get when your father is leaving?
Are you sick of leftovers?
Barely eating, I assume? Alcohol or diet—
caffeine understands and offers a hand.
There is work to do that only you can do.
Are you smarter than you were,
or have you just endured enough emergencies?
You sat in one place for too long,
as to not risk hydroplaning.
“You Are Here” The sign reads. You are everywhere
within yourself and out of explanations.
It’s not the worst idea to try again.
Pour something else into the cup,
make it undrinkable.
A bear walks into a bar. Everyone leaves
because these animals shouldn’t be in buildings,
and he is looking a little lost
and you are looking a little delicious to him.
You ask him if he feels misrepresented in Goldilocks
and then you fall in love but you can’t marry him,
because you’re not even divorced yet.
Are you feeling unwell?
Are you aware that it’s raining
and that you’re standing outside,
gulping it down like it has fizz?
You pray for hail and get it.
Someone announces a pregnancy.
You’re just withstanding the rain,
totally naked in your yard, thinking of
every mother and every mortality.
Are you feeling under the weather?
Is the soup and ginger ale not enough this time?
What about the lover, the instrument, the task without purpose,
the unbreakable branch of a tree you really want to cut down?
It’s good, it’s bad, it’s everywhere.
It’s awful, it’s serene, it’s pretty, it’s dull,
with your mouth open, it’s almost comical.
At last, you scream one final announcement:
I REALLY DON’T FEEL SO GOOD!
Photo by Sinitta Leunen on Unsplash
