Normal is safe
but boring to others
like a slow-cooker of death;
normal is insidious,
roots itself in routine
and its 9 to 5 redundancy.
It wears dark suits
and plain, solid-colored dresses.
It is highly appropriate,
walks with a precise gait,
picks up its trash,
pleases its neighbors,
and never does anything spontaneous
without a hint of distemper.
And before you realize it,
your normal body is glowing
in the hereafter,
right next to Aunt Harriet
and Uncle Richard,
piled high in the tombstones
of meaningless dedication.
Mark Tulin is a former therapist who lives in California. He has a chapbook, Magical Yogis, and two upcoming books: Awkward Grace, and The Asthmatic Kid and Other Stories. He’s been featured in Fiction on the Web, Ariel Chart, Amethyst Magazine, among others. His website is Crow On The Wire.
Hanging on by a breath
ReplyDeleteNailed to a cross 'til death
What's it all mean, to be alive and cry
What's it all mean, to live and to die
Me - I will be buried next to my husband. Once we are back together, we will roam the world, to see places we were never able to visit when alive.
ReplyDeleteWhen you have true love it never ends. You start where you left off.