Monica

Monica Jul 2017

Vague

It's over there.
No, not there.

There.

You know, that place.
With that guy?
No, not him.
The other guy.

That guy who did that thing.
Yeah, that's it.
That one day before
the day with the other thing.

Yeah.

Monica Feb 2017

The Fractal Cashier Blues

With a flick of the wrist, items pass hand to hand.
You hear a beep, and place what you’ve scanned
into a bag. “Would you like paper or plastic ma’am?”
“Paper for the canned goods, plastic for the ham.”

You ask “how are you?” a dozen times a minute.
You get a cold, “fine.” You know their heart’s not in it.
People whine as they empty their cart of pricey food.
Aren’t you lucky to hear about their bad mood?

Hours upon hours, you follow the same exact routines.
There so long you know 4066 is the code for green beans
without even being asked, it’s just there in your head.
You wish you were somewhere else, preferably your bed.

The lines peter out, the crowds begin thinning,
As the last hour approaches you can’t help your grinning.
When you’re finally done you feel at peace, you feel zen,
But you know the very next day, it all starts again

Monica Feb 2017

Meet and Greet Anxiety

Um, I'm from a small town.
You probably don't know it.
You've probably never been there,
but you've probably driven through.

Oh it's a few miles from here...
have you ever heard of it?
No?
That's okay, not many have.

I mean it's not exactly near there...
do you know the other towns in the area?
No?
Okay. Fine, yeah it's near there.

Let's play 20 questions.
Maybe that will help.
Is it bigger than a breadbox?
No, not really.

Honestly, forget it.
It's a really tiny town,
not much left to say.
But it's where I'm from.

Monica Feb 2017

Perception! Hearsay

"This is art!"
pronounced the woman who was blind.
"I've seen better,"
mused the man standing far behind.

"You're missing the meaning,"
his aunt told him over the phone.
"What a provoking piece,"
posted the professor online, sitting alone.

"A ****** depiction,"
said the professor's Facebook friend.
"You are ignorant,"
typed the lawyer, pressing send.

"I must have it!"
boomed the lawyer's wealthy client.
"But you haven't even seen it,"
the lawyer reminded the business giant.

"I don't need to see it!
I'll just send them a lot of cash!"
Four days later at his door,
the businessman found a pile of trash.

Monica Jan 2017

A Prayer for the Return of Innocence

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
It seems the morality of the world has thinned,
and it's hard for me to differentiate
how to be good, and how to be great.

There's so much bad stuff swirling around,
and unfortunately, as I have found,
it's so easy to get swept up by society,
and so easy to be remiss in one's piety.

I long to be a better person.
I don't want to just worsen and worsen.
Can you help me be a saint?
Make me in your image, the way only an artist can paint.

I just need your guidance and your aid,
I need to have more confidence in the me that you made.
Because if I stare really hard right into a mirror,
There's a person I'm becoming, and frankly, I fear her.

Help me to be in the world and not of it.
Help me to embrace my true self and love it.
And in the face of the world's ignorant braying,
help me to just keep on loving and praying.

Monica Nov 2016

Eyes on the Road

There is a water bottle
on the side of route 3.
It's blue and it's plastic
and it's ***** and old.

Reusable, but unused.

Just a piece of garbage
lying on the side of the road.

I look at that water bottle every day.

I take comfort in knowing it's there.
Through every season of
the last year and a half it
has remained in the same spot.

Sun beating down on it,
leaves gathered around,
covered in snow,
it stays where it began.

Whatever music I'm listening to,
whatever emotions I'm feeling,
through elation from a grade
or depression from a breakup,
the water bottle is there.

What a concept,
what a constant,
what a weird thing to notice
on the side of the road.

But there it is every day,
a ***** blue water bottle,
unmoving,
and unimposing,
but such a big part
of my daily routine.

Monica Nov 2016

Election Imperfection

****… SPLAT!

The mudslinging,
Left winging,
Right winging,
Promise singing,
and stress bringing
may now commence.

Two households,
both alike in their
traffic stopping,
secret swapping,
state hopping,
story dropping,
bubble popping
campaigns

with their
hope dashing,
donation cashing,
constant bashing,
piece of trashing,

try to
get elected,
be selected,
not rejected,
well-protected,

but their
unfeeling,
free wheeling,
shady dealing,
sends us reeling.

Hill and Don,
the battle’s on,
our wits are gone,
next week
we’ll see who’s won

Who will be the next
1600 Pennsylvania Ave resident?
Our 45th United States president?