Saturday, July 30, 2016

Julie McElhone #32 Interior Monologue (extract)

I reach to bring them to order, see,
pens and cups and scraps on plates and, 
yes, books (so many books)
eddying around the rooms and
they keep improvising excessively
little commedia dell’arte reflections, see,
flitting from one surface to another
plotting, I know, plotting against me
and cables, cables, cables:
I want to throw them all away, see,
but I’m worried about landfill
maternity betrays me

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