If
you're a failure at the amenities,
write
a poem and pour out your heart.
Can't
walk straight, joints stiffened with disease,
Can't
tote vegetables from the grocer,
confidently
wait in line
to
pay cash or credit.
Let
in the repairman to fix the phone
or
read the gas meter -
can't
look him squarely in the eye.
Because
you're too ashamed of your shaggy hair,
your
mottled air and limp.
Too
stiff to unwind -
ad
valorem taxes on the charity of others
drain
your self-worth.
Try
to redeem yourself
in
a poem.
Rochelle
Hope Mehr lives in New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in Lucid
Moon, Poems Niederngasse, Perceptions, The
Stone Soup Anthology, Lucidity and other publications.
Magazine