I need to take a shower. Sweat
has glued my features into a face
and when I raise my eyebrows,
it feels like something is breaking.
I should get dressed after that.
I will get up, take a shower, put on jeans
and the remaining clean t-shirt.
I need to do laundry. I need to get moving.
I need to forget about the scene
at the coffee shop where I saw
Leo and Samantha laughing, sharing
a piece of cake as if they were movie
stars eluding the paparazzi.
I need to drop out and drive somewhere
hot. Go a long way to find
a replacement part for my bad engine.
I’ll stop at a small town in New Mexico,
get a job waitressing at a truck stop.
I need to meet a funny, sweet guy
named Russ, a piano player from Texas
who is drawn to my brokenness,
who grew up in a trailer, raised by coyotes.
No wait, I was raised by coyotes. Russ
will have a Friday night gig at the bar
down the street. He’ll invite me to sing,
and we’ll hit the road – Tumble Rockets,
that’s our name. We’ll get decent reviews,
earn some money, and one night
in Springfield, Leo will catch the show.
I won’t know he’s there, but he’ll see me.
Elizabeth Cantonwine Schmidt is a Reference Librarian at a Public Library in Dayton, Ohio. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Mock Turtle Zine, Poppy Road Review, and Blue Fifth Review. Her writing is inspired by turns of the mind, the color blue, history, relationships, and journeys through the bloodstream.
Tags: e-zine, Elizabeth Cantonwine Schmidt, ezine, hyperbole, I need to get out of bed, longing, melancholy, melancholy hyperbole, new, poem, poet, poetry
I love this.