Stuck On Stuck

    First time I recall getting stuck's
    the day they tell me I was getting birthed,
    whatever, I objected, that's the crux,
    they made me, like treasure they'd unearthed.
            I should've fought harder.

    Once I stuck my wee head through the porch railing,
    I must have big ears, since they got me caught
    so much so that my best struggling was unavailing
    to free me from where I wasn't wishing I'd ought.
            Got my ears taped back on, though.

    Little girls such as I seemed more than apt —
    in corners, in closets, down under her bed,
    out the garage, up the attic — at getting trapped,
    thereby turning into daddy's big girl instead.
            Didn't much care for big.

    I worked one whole day downtown as a clerk,
    got hung up in traffic on my inbound route
    so thick by the time I made it to work
    it was already time for the outbound commute.
            They told me don't bother.

    I gave my cash to one of them investment schemes
    to save for retirement, that's what I did,
    but my money got stuck, so instead of dreams
    I helped out in building a pyramid.
            There's always Social Security.

    I'm not half bad at long division,
    which doesn't mean I've got the touch
    at math, just that I made the odd decision
    to get even with getting stuck so much.
            Got me a computer now.
            Gets me stuck that much faster.

    Almost every morning I can find myself glued
    to my bed, with my eyes just as glued shut,
    it ain't me minding getting caught in the nude,
    but rather that my bed makes a comfortable rut.
            Hit the snooze again, please.

    I can't get me rid of this writer's block —
    no matter how hard I've kicked and stomped,
    my hand's like a stick and my head's like a rock . . .
    ah but next week'll bring me a fresh new prompt.
            Praise Bob! there's always Wednesday!

    Today I don't feel very much like I'm moving,
    there not being much to move at from or for
    and since things around here aren't intent on improving
    I guess I might stay stuck an hour or two more.
            No need to get personal about it.

    With all of the people I've ever wronged
    and for all of the ways that I couldn't excel,
    in the end I'll get stuck where I've always belonged,
    with the epitaph, "She always did stick it well."
            Hell, I'm used to it by now.


2 Responses to “Stuck On Stuck”

  1. 1 Dr. Pearl Ketover Prilik
    2010.06.19 at 12:23 am

    Poetic images as powerful and lovely here, as where I more frequently find you at Poetic Asides. I’d like to make a comment that is a bit more personal …. if you’d like e-mail me. You often write of being ‘stuck’ as the PA prompt however – your words and passion flow.

  2. 2010.06.19 at 3:40 am

    Enjoyed this poem and the emotions shared…well said!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

formal attire

short of breath

  • @magewing always and unfailing love thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • Cyn & Denise perfect love ferocious & open thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • @poetalias thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • all of it in good hands, as will be my child - thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • all of it now handed over so I can conserve remaining strength for my final creation ○ 5 years ago
  • how is it i remember what the word 'intrinsic' means, yet i can't figure out which beliefs are intrinsic to me vs having been read to me? ○ 5 years ago

RSS heptahedron


%d bloggers like this: