seems to wear me like a worn-out bathrobe,
I swallow the frustrated bile that rises
daily. Chunks of broken
dreams forced
down
in duty to family, friends. Reality
ticks by, a slow-moving bus I am destined to be
under. I lay in my graveled bed, waiting
for resignation or residual fumes from the tailpipe,
whichever come to claim me first.
A.J. Huffman has published seven solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and the winner of the 2012 Promise of Light Haiku Contest. Her poetry, fiction, and haiku have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, Kritya, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com
Your poem hit a chord today--augmented.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing here.