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What I Wanted to Be
by Kristine BrieseI pictured myself lying on a rock
brushing fine sand and dust
off a Tyrannosaurus bone
or charting the path of a comet
that was beating a trail past
the window of my shuttlecraft.
Somebody told me to be practical,
to think of something I could really do.
Okay, I said, and began to imagine
thirty small desks filled with
futures and smiles or maybe
just a small house with
a kitchen and a baby, but
I never once imagined
remote-controlled metal doors
and green linoleum stinking
of urine and sorrow,
or sobs echoing loudly
down fluorescent corridors
and seventeen different pills a day,
no, I never thought of crazy.
12/26/2002 Author's Note: Repost, after my traumatic mis-click.
Posted on 12/26/2002
Copyright © 2026 Kristine Briese
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ronald A Pavellas on 12/26/02 at 04:05 PM Why am I optimistic for you upon reading this? Because it is such a sane reaction to ... whatever you are living or perceiving. I like its clarity. Ron |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/27/02 at 06:59 PM Glad you reposted this, Kris. One of the best 'shattered dreams' poems I've ever read, a part of all of this in this. |
| Posted by Agnes Eva on 05/22/03 at 06:32 PM insightful omniscient portrait of the unexpected state of insanity.. i always wonder where some people go wrong- they were all kids with different future projection dreams in the beginning |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 06/01/07 at 07:27 PM Well, you'd have to be crazy to think of 'crazy'... |
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