543 Day Writing Journey

Mondays. Day 34.

Why are guardrails so low,
on high-up places with long-down drops?
And we go fast and get passed
and settle our rigid pointer finger on the window button,
just in case we’re submerged a hundred feet down.

Why don’t wine glasses have tiny roosts,
for the grown-up maggots and sweet bees who want to sip
but can’t fly their boozy selves
out of the merlot and into the shadowy
North Carolina breeze?

Why do you want to punch your kitten
but not punch your kitten
because she’s so cute and soft?
So, you just want to punch but not really
because you just feel so much for her
silky new soul.

Why do you poke at vegetarians?
Because what they don’t eat jeopardizes what you do eat?
Their conviction intimidates so you
defend before being offended
and wear T-shirts that say I Eat Vegans
because you’re a . . .

Chest pounder tough guy man
with puffed out arms and imaginary lats.
I see your profile photo of your
autumn kill and your Shiny Camaro and
that sexy .45 on your imaginary hip.

Why is everyone so worried about everyone else?
Pointing their dirty keyboard fingers
at the filtered photos of someone else’s business,
cupped white hand on the side of their face
while they whisper in text.

Why do people say splendid
like it’s not pretentious?
If you’re reading this,
I dare you to say it this week,
without smirking or including straight praying fingers
in front of your lips.

When does a banana die?
When you pick it,
or when you buy it,
or when you peel it,
or when you bite it?

Why don’t more people talk about Abby the Spoon Lady,
And her utensil click click clickety click click click?
Or her bluegrass friends,
and pretty bare feet,
and pleasant, happy face?

Why are Mondays so Monday but
Tuesdays are even more Monday than Mondays are
but we don’t talk about Tuesdays because
they’re not real Mondays
but just feel like Mondays?

4 thoughts on “Mondays. Day 34.”

  1. Dear Teri,
    Some serious questions here! 🙂 Profound reasons as to when, exactly a banana begins to go bad! I don’t know about punching a kitten, but I do know one little girl who just loves her cat, and will send you her sweet photo via email.
    Love,
    Uncle Lee 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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