Going to New York
to be on TV. Need new
clothes. A tent would work.
Feeling fat
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Going to New York
to be on TV. Need new
clothes. A tent would work.
HGTV shows
designer homes while I nest
in my own clutter.
To eat or not to
eat? My stomach says yes, my
hips scream don’t you dare.
I keep coming to
post like a lover checking
for text messages.
Why this ache, an itch
no hand can scratch, a splinter
no tweezer can pull?
A blowtorch melting
a block of ice from within,
pain made transparent.
They’ll watch football. We’ll
cook. Men and women. Hunters
and gatherers still.
Like a cracked eggshell,
once broken it cannot be
redeemed nor reforged.
Heavy blanket weighs
you down, yet cocoons you. Why
bother to crawl out?
Canned pumpkin sold out.
Damned overachievers! I’m
a “last-minute” type.