*Prompt provided by Lissa Piercy
What is this mess of Monday messages?
An ongoing unraveling.
The yarn whizzing through callused fingers and plastic rods.
How do days explode into color
and diffuse nightly?
Who makes the night exhale day glow;
What sense is made?
At first glance is hard lesson
Softened by sweet conditioning.
On second look,
Note the lace falling from hips;
Bus stop orchestra and vagrant audience;
The ballet of bullet avoiding;
Tiptoeing poverty to leap into success.
“All the world is a stage”
We play the role and improv to survive.
There is some funny kinda of love here,
A make believe bae
Laughing at failure
Celebrating small success;
When the boot leaps from the ledge
And barely lands;
When you get the coins;
When you win.
A mistake shaken into
A stutter step made pirouette.
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