Diving UpJessy Randall
Diving up from hotdogs for dinner, Legos on the bedroom floor, a lurch, a gasp for breath. Here is a cartoon dog with an English accent. Kill it, marry it, make out with it, argue. Ugly words. Nothing from this life, updived. The caterpillar got everything it needed to eat. Inside the cocoon was a black robot, grotesque, my mother and I cut into it. The girl on the playground told lies. Maybe fall back down, then, into the spaghettios and the diapers. My mother never did anything to hurt me. Doubt myself, doubt the world, doubt anything else, but not her love. Dive through it, push through the water, get somewhere.
Jessy Randall Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2022, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|