Flat like an envelope begging to be opened,
scolding me for not making a donation
or missing a sale. For the life of me,
I don’t want to give it a life.
Not my own. I waver.
So much for resolution like a diet
gone to cherry-cheese danish.
Slowly, I lift the pulsing thing,
an organ vibrating with an urgency
that might mean an abducted child
or election results. Jurassic Park with dinosaurs
stampeding through my living room,
a battery on steroids.
Now I remember my laptop
soaking in the sink. Relief.
Histerically funny accurate insight into a life led today.
Comments are closed.