PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

"You could have been a radio,"

my mother used to say,

"or a rock. Would you like to be a rock?"

I said "no...," I guessed not...

but I'd stare up at the stars

and imagine my body being

cellestial energy, a whole world 

of life, it could be mine!

I know - you don't understand,

I know it matters nothing

to you...

And then they ask me

where my dad has been,

and all I can muster:

"kind of more interested in his blonde and her pussy"

but that's kind of gross...

Perhaps I should just downplay:
"Oh, it's not so bad, I'm just bitching,"

I'd say,

speaking in "non sequiturs,"

maybe to an ignoramus;

my body being metaphors and

vinegar ice cream.

And my mother, well,

she knows he's been cantankerous,

he and his babe's butt,

and the jealousy might be back but,

she asks me for a meaning

and she asks me what it is 

I WANT TO BE

and all I could muster:
"I've been thinking...

A LOT

about that radio."