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hiding in a room with no door
by Angela ThomasI feel like I'm suddenly sinking into a soft and billowy bed.
My birthday passed by so quickly this year that even my
own mother forgot it. My boyfriend left me to fend off the
Oh-Shit-I'm-Fucking-Old woes all by myself, he didn't even
give me a pretty thing to look at when all I could see was
dirty. New York isn't getting to me, because it is the one
thing that keeps me sane, inronically. The lack of friends,
of luster, of rooms with doors that close, that is what is
truly digging under my skin. Work still seems like a damned
good reason to get up in the morning, so that can't be it.
I think what I really miss is just as simple as the monkey
in a room with a wire mother that feeds him. This monkey
dies while the monkey in the room with the warm, furry,
surrogate-love providing mother lives. I can't live off the neccessities. 03/08/2006 Posted on 03/08/2006
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 03/11/06 at 06:13 AM I really like the matter-of-fact, unadorned tone of voice this is written in. So prose like, but structured as a free verse sonnet. Very nice poem Angela. |
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