In the uninspired, I wait—
hoping dawn pours a poem into me.

As if a measuring cup hits the line
and completes the mix—
oh, how good poetry tastes.

I wait for the bells
that wrought iron strike.

The sea still tastes like salt,
drowning sailors every day in its wake.

Cars veer off roads.
Kids get to school safely.
Mom grabs her latte.

Babies breathe stale, warm hospital air.

A man straightens his tie, takes a breath

and steps in front of the train.

Everything
keeps
going.

The clock still ticks.
The laugh track resets

when I wake up.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.