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"John Wayne"

I must disrupt this.
Put a ripple to cast a thousand waves
shaken by a moment. A whirlpool if no other
gratified by the less reasonable gods, my nod 
to the pickers of the hung backs and perhaps 
plumbers ass from seeking seed from cherry. 
This is my moment. 
My epic John Wayne blacker than soul, blacker than hell, blacker than night
to create a internal struggle with my insomniac mind
teetering between dusk and when 
babies suckle at their pacifiers, greeting
the infamous Sandman that alludes me. 
I must disrupt this.
Cup of black rain and indulge
what my nerves do not necessitate. I dare
hesitate sniffing and grinning, my own
silent treatment of alone time that I 
hoard over like the last piece of meat in a dog's bowl.
Do I even begin to be a little less cowgirl and more
Ice cream parlor patron, sprinkling unnecessary sweet
on the heavy cold world that tries to screw me over?
I won't even give a strong nod to the 
reason why I must sugarcoat this orb separated by 
atlases, and surely find a way to raise my glasses that peek 
over page 117 of Angela's Ashes. Just this moment, cream free
and sugar willing-I sprinkle a dash. 
Drink my coffee piping hot
Remembering tomorrow will soon be my past. 

-b.r.rivera-taylor
2 of 30
#30in30

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