Bedtime Stories
My
son asks me
if
he will find someone to love
he
tells me he desires more
than surface talk
that
he seeks deep thought conversations
how
do I tell him
Love will file him down to a nub
Peel his skin from his bone
Leave him curled up in a ball
Writhing in an agony
That penetrates so deep
It will open up a crater in his soul
And the hole will never truly close
In
the only way I know
I
tell him
love
is an endless smile
a
heart folded into a doughy mix
pressed
over and over
worked
into an endless supply
of
a wondrous bread
that
filled the last supper
a
comfort so simple it has powered
the
universe since
time
immemorial
Donna Dallas
Donna Dallas studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School and was lucky enough to study under William Packard, founder and editor of the New York Quarterly. I’m most recently found in The Opiate, Anti Heroin Chic, Beatnik Cowboy and Horror Zine among many other publications. I have just published my novel, Death Sisters, with Alien Buddha Press. I currently serve on the editorial team for Red Fez. I was published prior in Burning House Press
Tags:
Poetry
I copied this poem and will share it with my own grown-up son. To add the bitters to that whiskey sour so aptly and with a twist of wit. Thank you Donna Dallas.
ReplyDeleteStraight wisdom for a new day. You make poetry relevant again.
ReplyDelete