deepundergroundpoetry.com
A bad day to be a writer.
Somedays,
whether you like it
or not,
you’re going to feel
a little more
like a writer.
It could be thirteen
minutes on hold
before booking
an appointment
or sitting in the waiting
room an hour later
watching and listening
to two kids running laps,
staring at the proud smiles
of the parents
who do nothing.
It could be being told
that you’re next appointment
is even earlier
and an hour drive away…
You have no car
Or picking up breakfast
on the way home
and standing behind
a young woman
wearing a skirt
that exposes the thighs.
It could be getting home
too tired to sleep again,
opening the fridge
and pulling out a beer
at 10:30.
It could be
any of these things,
but all of them
are sad and sorry
in comparison
to waiting in bed
for a midday
alarm clock.
whether you like it
or not,
you’re going to feel
a little more
like a writer.
It could be thirteen
minutes on hold
before booking
an appointment
or sitting in the waiting
room an hour later
watching and listening
to two kids running laps,
staring at the proud smiles
of the parents
who do nothing.
It could be being told
that you’re next appointment
is even earlier
and an hour drive away…
You have no car
Or picking up breakfast
on the way home
and standing behind
a young woman
wearing a skirt
that exposes the thighs.
It could be getting home
too tired to sleep again,
opening the fridge
and pulling out a beer
at 10:30.
It could be
any of these things,
but all of them
are sad and sorry
in comparison
to waiting in bed
for a midday
alarm clock.
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