written 01/23/2013
The pesky sound on bald walls bounces, pulling her out
The rabbit hole she would have loved to spend the day.
There he is, striking a pose, majestic and proud,
Waiting on her next move, alert, carried away,
Purring louder than cicadas under hot sun.
She acknowledges his presence, so he slips away.
Now, her steps he precedes all the way to the kitchen:
Her heart he knows is wrapped around his little paws!
On her bare feet, he jumps, initiating fun…
But time is running out and the sun’s heading west
Faster than hungry lions hounding a gazelle.
She does not like her job, though tries to do her best;
Ultimately, ends up leafing through her new Elle
Magazine. She doesn’t even read the captions,
Instead studies models’ perfect figures: she dwells.
She yearns to become the center of attention,
Out-of-reach beauty standards set by society,
While deep inside she longs for appreciation
Slowly exasperates deep insecurities.
What is a girl to do among fair goddesses?
Maybe there are details she might have overseen?
Deep down inside there are issues she must address:
Is superficiality more important than
Women’s souls, discounted by the freedom of the press?
It’s 5 o’clock: no time to think, just time to thank
The Universe, and forget how imperfect she is.
Gin and tonic tonight will numb her aching brain,
And maybe distract her from things she thinks she missed.
Back home, she lies in bed and snakes between the sheets
Without even undress, in her clothes she will sleep.
She drifts off in second, don’t even count sheep.
Decelerated dive down in her rabbit hole,
Another worthless day: a diem perdidi –
Unable to be claimed nor remembered, that is for sure.
French Girl in Brooklyn 