Day 3: National Poetry Month

My Journally prompt today was “Grape Kool-Aid, halfhearted happenstance, and the memory of….” Whatever that means.

Here’s what I did with it. Whatever this means.

Halfhearted Happenstance

Even chaos slacks off on the job from time to time,
leaving you to drink your own Kool-Aid, believe
the revisionist memories you’ve made up to placate
guilts savored like a fine piece of asparagus dripping
in sauces you don’t quite recognize, don’t quite
know know whether you can make peace with.
Life and dinner parties don’t have to turn out
the way we plan, don’t have to arrange people
we love in clear relationships around a sturdy table.
But even days when you blink your eyes
and see everything change, lean forward
for another helping of new potatoes only
to realize that the person staring at you
to your left is not who you thought, and you
sitting there with the spoon in your hand,
shadow lurking over discarded napkin rings
are barely recognizable yourself. It should
feel more difficult than it does sometimes,
this sense that you can’t be yourself
inside yourself, that every routine taste
is a potential strangeness on a strange
and stranger plate. Put down the spoon.
Take a sip of iced tea. Talk to someone
other than the thoughts in your head.
It doesn’t matter who you think
you are today. Stop right now.
You are getting on your nerves.