Crazy stuff that women do for zippers. Shrink your violin. What has happened to me? I used to rule the world. Now mercenary companies catalog my vivisected victories. I am a dictionary. I am a zucchini. Plant therapy for the second half of the community.
This may sound crazy, but I am trying to clean the house less. It still isn’t as organized as it should be. I still suck at organization. But I have been cleaning nonstop. On Angelica’s 1st day of school I cleaned for 6 straight hours. Nothing was particularly unruly in the house. I just cleaned. I’ve been doing that ever since.
I should be using this time to really delve into my writing and to focus on learning a new language and things like that. I have the free time to do those things. I should be studying scripture. Instead I am disinfecting the disinfectant.
I think it is just hard to get used to Angelica being gone. I have been interrupted in everything from writing a poem to going to the bathroom for five years. Now I know if I sit down to do something I will be alone, with time to focus. This seems to scare me.
A small taste of empty nest syndrome. I just miss my daughter, and the harder I work the quicker I can bring her home. It makes the time fly to clean all day.
Maybe I am nervous too because since we aren’t homeschooling at this point, a chapter of my life has begun in which I should be very productive and accomplish a lot. I haven’t been under that type of pressure since college.
T minus 30 minutes til I pick Angelica up from school!
Name of our last daffodil
This amphibian plays fiddle
Why not blow away the rain?
First, throw up the lights. Now you can move. Track down a sparrow for hire. Do you know how to handle a problem with a cape? Strap the house to the humane society. No one stands you up or puts you down. No 50 dollar donation and a signed form to give you any mercy. Go beg. Get that sparrow.
Why do knives chip?
Sparrow plead with them for my years still locked in the morning vault.
Work in progress.
Bible of life. Distill yourself into a skirt. Proprietary private apartments. Seek the word of the day. New learning disabilities are you and your rich neurons. People grow wild in bushes every time you want to be. Woman woman woman. Woman with the highest rate of falling. Fall. My lungs are crackling like fire.
This poem is a blend of my normal writing and auto fill suggestions
Rolling out of a soul, I squish my teeth against the wall. Fidelity is a good example of how the internet has changed tomorrow. Loyal to my childhood, I spark some sort of emotional issue. My life tethered to a new world.
Seashore of officials. Miami has been a bad choice. Winter writers flutter like they were born to make their children feel so strange. The law has changed since I was a reptilian woman. I have laid my eggs in front of my hourglass. Children – they slide into chambers, sew themselves suits. Why comb a bald beach of boiling beer?
The grass is a code.
I can’t read it,
But I know the rabbit
Hiding against my fence can.
That’s why he’s hiding
What I do know is
That the flower’s teeth
Have been chattering
The hawk is tethered
To his nest.
He is of no concern
The chemicals will move
A gentle burning
That lulls life away.
I HAVE EMPTY NEST SYNDROME! Okay, it is less severe than what those in later life experience when there’s no one to even come home from school – but I’ve got it bad. When I go to the bathroom there’s no one opening the door to chat with me. When I read a book there is no one to interrupt me. I could literally read a book in one sitting now. I haven’t done that since Angelica was born. I’d rather be interrupted.
It has been hard to read or write at all still. I get home from dropping her off and I just clean and clean and clean.