I love poetry. I took 3 semesters of it in college (although that always troubled me, since I figure truly brilliant poets don’t have to try that hard). I haven’t written in years – I somehow have been too tired, or busy, or bloggy to even try.
Yesterday, in a rare moment of leisure (between pajama parties, book fairs and girl scout cookies) something came to me. Recently, the only poetry I have read belongs to the past poet laureate, Ted Kooser, and I like the humanity of his work.
I am going to take a risk, and put it out there, as inspired by Ted.
I am chewing gum.
Like a waitress,
who is bored and unhappy
about the turn her life has taken since she met
the wrong man.
Married him. Bore him
two unforgiving children.
Lost them. Not literally, of course.
But spiritually, through years of letting the wrong man
do his wrong things.
Now, the kids can’t even look her in the eye
And they are acting wrong themselves.
She knows she should be filling salt,
making too-black coffee,
using her damp, gray rag to wipe
the sticky ketchup bottles, or the split plastic seats,
but she only has the energy to chew this gum.
With anger. Sure of nothing
but the gum.