Monday's Poem
©
Nathaniel G. Moore
Monday's
Child
A giraffe stretches his neck in traffic
across
the sun and the silhouette is not misappropriated
sponge vibrations Heimlich maneuvering in the shade by
multiply heart palpitations but more of a long
stroking massage that embalms us all happy our
strollers, filled with heating chocolate ice cream
This
was, is my condition. Mint condition lava
lamps & soda straws & rosy cheeks
darning the tea bag with sneezes my Aunt passed me
under the seatbelt and inner childseat is locked,
&
I bobble in the macabre soup
of an afternoon rain, as washing
&
naked I am washed
as machines scold
instructions & flood language to wage & wade me back
to a closer facsimile.