Shelley of Oklahoma is our host today for the final day of the March Open Write, encouraging us to write poems to help us relax. You can read her full prompt here. I have one of those conferences today – the kind in a town with a gas station and a stop sign and maybe a hot dog in the gas station and nothing else, and I’m driving in with coworkers from an hour and seven minutes northeast, and I’m not overnighting so I have to leave early and get home late and I know the coffee’s gonna suck because it always does when they have those plastic canisters of powdered creamer and only pink-packet off-brand sweetener.
But I’m trying to relax.
Really.
Frumpy
Relax - no one cares
whether your pants match your shirt
or that they're wrinkled
Relax - no one cares
that the tops of your feet are
white as unbaked bread
Relax - no one sees
you picking at your fingers
of chipped nail polish
Relax - no one knows
your Odor Eaters are now
expired by three months
Relax - just because
you forgot to tweeze your lip
doesn't mean don't go
After all: you're the
driver....others are counting
on you to get there
Relax - your oil got
changed, your gas tank's full and your
car is vacuumed out
Relax - your riders
might find your car is cleaner
than theirs (not driven)
Relax - wait, is that
.....is that a seam coming out?
It's right on the butt
Nope, don't relax. Go
change pants. Nothing clean? That's what
long sweaters are for.
Heck, grab a blanket
and wrap up like a student
.....relax for a change!
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