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A Day Like Every Other
by Laura DoomSunlight slices the blind,
my forehead, the anonymity
of ten thousand variations on a theme;
little changes, if only to redress
the raw of celebrity stasis.
Mother's cellulite phone vibrates
in concert with a dirge
of chemo-dancers waiting on their wings.
First light nerves shredded
and crushpacked in a box marked
"Pulp Fiction"—I shake my head.
A coherent thought escapes,
dripping its filth, pleading the fifth
before the trial goes cold.
A heavy future kicks me,
prematurely, into action.
In a fit of coffee, I reject
Bukowski in favour of painkillers,
the lesser of two clichés
delivering me from devaluation
as I stumble upon consciousness.
I throw up. The bowl reflects
my demeanour; ill-prepared
to feign a challenge to the new day. 03/22/2009 Author's Note:
Edited 28-02-14 [UK date format]
Posted on 03/22/2009
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/22/09 at 05:46 PM Reality so stubbornly is unable to be begged to differ. I cringe at the mere understanding of all this. This maze. |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 03/22/09 at 08:18 PM "in concert with a dirge
of chemo-dancers waiting on their wings." that feels to familiar. great write. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/23/09 at 08:41 PM A nicely combined mish mash of words...lines to lay out a new day's inner and outer turmoil. |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 03/24/09 at 04:32 AM PArts of this reminded me of visuals from Requiem for a Dream... But that last verse is just so... the distinct work of Ms. Doom. Love it. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/24/09 at 11:42 AM the thing about a typical day is that it will come
to us as no surprise, for we are much prepared to greet this oddball day in the habit of calling itself typical, whose motto is to put on a good show and in so doing don as many hats for us not excluding the atypical one. atypical poem as this is, is received
by atypical brain which is well pleased to receive it and is no strain put on either hemisphere, rather it is a dear breeze to be so atypically received.
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