The Exit is That Way
I’m confused why you’re still in this meeting
when change is for what it is meant,
but you answer each helpful suggestion
with punctuated scoffs of dissent.
Time is a precious commodity,
why waste two hours of yours?
Might we suggest you head elsewhere
if you find yourself really that bored?
Perhaps you could use a large coffee,
a nap, or to go for a run.
You could even take in a movie
and stay til the credits are done!
You may have misheard the assignment
or found yourself in the wrong room.
No one would blame you for leaving,
in fact, we encourage it soon.
In the Stands
The noise of the crowd is a warm blanket draped across my back.
The joy of the band intertwines with bursts of enthusiastic refrain and I curl up in it.
My toes tap of their own accord, my heels click, and I am fifteen.
I gaze from my perch at the impossibly green field, marked in measured yards.
Feathered plumes point dutifully upward, all eyes focus straight ahead.
We follow the music and shapes emerge as we step in time.
Only from the top can I spot the points of intersect, the beauty of their design.
I climbed this metal mountain and see clearly the ways I’ve still yet to arrive.
The sights and sounds bathe me in the waters of a simpler time
and I release the laughter I just now realized I’ve been holding in.
I’ve a rope to lasso the ellipsis holding me down,
to turn it against itself, pull myself up off the ground,
and swing in the silence that hangs between every sound.
I’m delivered from that which I string.
The belts used against us as if we deserve
the whip of the leather’s attempts to control who we serve.
The sting of their pride hellbent on breaking our nerve.
For too long, we have been buffering.
I’ll make knots in the rope that I offer for you to climb,
your expanse will grow more with each dropped disguise.
I want you beside me as we continue to rise.
Together, we’ll draw ourselves up out of suffering.
Before you leave, sneak me into your suitcase.
I will settle in with your socks,
befriend your briefs,
and talk things over with your tee-shirts.
The flight won’t feel so very long.
Any bit of yours for company will do.
Before you leave, take a travel-sized piece of me
in case you packed loneliness too.
Apples and Honey
Our favorite quilt, a parachute between us,
spreading like butter on toast
and the snap of a freshly picked apple
dipped in rich honey from a late summer’s yield;
a delicious little diversion on a Sunday afternoon.
Thank you for joining me. I am so glad you’re here!