Home » Poetry » Day 221 – Nothin’ Wrong Wid Us

Day 221 – Nothin’ Wrong Wid Us

Five girls on the lineup, none of us blonde,
I guess maybe that’s the problem.

We all got degrees, we all got jobs
and none of us got a text back.

The men must be waiting for a firestorm
or the men are chicken-shit.

If they’d asked they might’ve learned that we
are an army of treadmill dancers,
Scrabble champions, bargain hunters,
tech-savvy readers with our glasses on,
smooth operators with our high heels on,
nonsense shredders with our work pants on,
and nobody’s lovesick fools.

We take wine together to commiserate-
I mean, commemorate-
what we already know:
there ain’t nothin’ wrong wid us.

We don’t necessarily believe it
but together we know the truth:
there ain’t nothin’ wrong wid us.

And we try to be valiant
when the world says “make him wait”
and the world says “make your move”
and we’re sick of the head games
and we’re sick of the numbers game
and they say when you’re completely frozen
that’s when the firestorm comes.

And we don’t dare ask when
there’s nothin’ wrong wid us.


5 thoughts on “Day 221 – Nothin’ Wrong Wid Us

  1. So true for your words, and lighter hair colours washout in the light to a blue sky, though in a storm sky all is equal. In other thoughts. When a firestorm races, roars cutting a swath through forests up steep mountainsides, the winds roll hot and heavy, while smoke suffocates the light in a day’s waking hours, dampening all scents bar its own. One always knows it’s coming, the waves of noise as it rages, drowns all other sounds, but does one stand, or should one run. Your metaphor reminded me to what it’s like standing in front of the real thing, and how the senses become assaulted by the turn, a looming singular avalanching event to an environment.

  2. Gal, onliest thang dats roung wid choo iz dat EYES too auld TWO DO.
    Them brains iz mightfull strowng far most, so un-bridle frawm dem YAWN menz thaughts.

    Dear LADY, being “old” and, without consistent “companionship” of “an interest” is freedom at a greatest. To have ONE’S SELF as best friend and, CHEERLEADER… (and a LARGE dollop of FAITH.), can carry “you” farther than being a TV styled whatever.
    TOO Nice a thought.

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