I finally speak my mind,
Saying things I should
Have years ago but never
Was permitted to or had
The courage to reveal.
My effort is met with
Silence, an impenetrable
Wall of defensiveness and
Hurt that no sound breaches.
I recognize it’s
Always been this way.
I’ve got mine.
You get yours.
I’ve got mine.
You get yours.
I made it on my own.
Survival of the fittest, man.
Why don’t you just do
What I do.
Be self-made, man.
Quit whining.
Self-reliance, man.
No handouts.
Do what I do.
Call your dad already.
I’m getting married;
Planning the wedding of my dreams.
No expense spared,
I’m a true princess.
I’ve known since I was six.
This is my day.
My day to shine.
My day to glow.
Oh, true love wrapped in
Bows and an oversized gown,
Used once. Only six stress-filled
Months to deplete bank accounts.
Joy and love, manicured, compulsory.
The weight of judgment.
He walked into the room,
Heard the music, and
Proposed that his favorite
Song be played. Turn it up and
Let’s all enjoy. Isn’t it great,
Quiet — this part is my favorite.
Eyes closed, mind closed, heart
Closed, closet door closed
Inches from your face if you
Don’t listen. A single dominant
Ear consuming all sound,
Ravenously demanding more,
A calamitous cacophony.
She always knew
He was extremely weak,
Something about the
Need to control every
Situation or the way
He would twitch when
His authority was
Questioned or any part
Of his self-aggrandizing
Pronouncements were
Challenged, a strange way
To live, always tiptoeing
Around the truth to save
An inadequate man’s ego.
Beep beep, here comes the car.
Honk honk, it heaves forward.
In the driver’s seat a small figure
Barely visible over the dashboard.
A quick hand gesture of disgust and
Impatience followed by a rather
Uncontrolled lurch onto the
Grass and the inevitable
Story about how the brakes didn’t
Work and the engine took off
On its own without warning.
Total absolution for the vehicle
Now resting in the living room.
He bloviates about the success of
His business, conveniently overlooking
The role of happenstance –
Right place, right time –
A product of pure chance –
No more effort expended than anyone else –
Pompously claiming prosperity is
The result of being
Extra smart, supernaturally savvy,
Gifted in some special way,
Unlike those he hallucinates
Don’t get off their posteriors and
Do something with the money they
Inherit from their families,
The arrogance of a windbag
Unappreciative of staggering fortune.
Having been dispossessed
By a callous regime,
She devotes much of
Her energy to devising
A philosophy of
Absolute selfishness.
Some are resilient,
Striving to help people not
Suffer the same fate,
Others lash out in a
Maelstrom of misanthropy,
Slash and burn inhumanity.
A zero sum game —
Only one person wins,
No caring or collaboration,
Empty worth defined by
How much stuff you can
Amass at others’ expense.
Something slightly off,
Vaguely strange.
Stiff, uncomfortable
In social situations,
Overly serious, ill at ease
Interacting with others.
Conversations oddly
Reminiscent of high school.
Inflexibility, stodginess,
Tradition trumps all,
Little tolerance or interest in
Change or progress.
Good old days that
Never existed reign supreme.
Maudlin memories of
Idealized order and conformity.
