She accidentally unleashed her pleasurable inner real
It pranced out from the belt at her throat
Traveled to the edge of her somber aura
Showed itself to be intuitive and wise
She watched carefully, mirroring her inner real
Fixing things in the reflection of sometimes
A haughty aloof reaction that sallied forth in precision
Leaving her empathetic aura wondering about her sanity
No one notices that she is balancing on an edge of something
she is too pretty to try for, so most men avert their eyes downward
looking for dumpier specimens with fat necks like their mothers
Giving her freedom to study her other selves.
There is a grayscale feeling about her today
Her inner real feels dangerous and provocative,
not unlike a fast-talking, over-confident detective from the forties
Her male side comes out and leads her inner real back into her throat.
Categories:
dumpier, mental illness,
Form: Free verse
I keep feeding her pastries, sugars and salts.
Anything animal – cow, pig, chicken, fish.
She is getting dumpier and lumpier.
We are waddling now. It’s a struggle to walk.
Stairs? You have to be kidding.
I gladly walk sixteen thousand steps to the elevator
Until the arthritis in my ankles kick in
A result of me not being careful when I stepped back
And stood on the top of a chair instead of the seat of it.
When I landed I was in shock, and knew I had done some damage.
Her foot was parked in the weirdest angle.
A brainless nurse tried to straighten us out.
My other leg kicked her hands away.
This body of mine probably hates me.
As we put on pound after pound of ugly fleshy fat.
I am sure my major organs are crying daily.
I do not apologize to her or give her any empathy.
Angry that she is getting older and frumpier, dumpy even.
I am sure she hates me now. I would.
Categories:
dumpier, self,
Form: Narrative
Mounds of papers, ragged, uneven as if elbows flaring at angles severe
Pens akimbo, dog-eared reminders, fading memorabilia
You-Name-It was all piled there only yesterday, only yesterday
Somehow dumpier now that it's been stripped bare of
What gave it character, its empty drawers ajar
Categories:
dumpier, memory, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse