I couldn’t tell if that was her voice, or a wasp on the front porch
anon - this is a poem after all - the muttering started up he doesn’t see what I do all day she will get to it soon, don’t bother
his back sweaty, her shoes torn up by rehomed dogs, do-gooders to a fault
air: sodden with expectations dogs: impatient and demanding underfoot man and wife: wondering why
to resent or to be the resented that is the question
I busy myself with an unnecessary task involving a pillow and a sham a task as unnecessary as many of theirs alone in my room, muttering haiku to myself
one sister trying not to witness the other’s self-sabotage
This is my entry to The Blockchain Poets community for their August challenge. The prompt is chaos.
It's been a while since my last post. I just finished my first year of studies and exams to become a homeopath. It's been a lot! What better way to get back into the game than with a bleak poem?
image is by Sophia Attebery, taken in front of my lakehouse during the big eclipse of 2024