Battlestar Eclectic

I just came across this years-old poem. I’m always finding things i forgot scrawled on receipts or printed out. Here it is:

I am footsore–limping and unsightly in one red

stiletto and one tennis shoe. Fashion

police have declared me a crime scene,

and draw a chalk outline around

my poor first impression.

———————

I looked to quench my thirst

with a dipper-full of cool water.

Instead, my bucket scoops up

mud, toadstools, tadpoles, tears.

The garden hose has gone on

strike, and the hummingbird

feeder is out of Kool-Aid.

———————————

I was promised to the moon,

but got impatient and eloped

with the porch light. Our contempt

flickers on and off, but we’re

staying together for the moths.

Disappointment ensues.

——————–

In my dreams, it’s always finals

and I’ve never studied. I tear

through Scantrons with my

number 3 pencil, while students laugh

at me for showing up at school

wearing clothes. Air conditioning

swats at the heat.

———————————-

New Age books cough at me

meaningfully from shelves.

“Think your way to success!”

I refuse out of sheer principal.

Depression has been with me for

so long. I don’t want to cry alone.

–Sarah Torribio

<<last post

>>next post