Wednesday, April 15, 2009


There is no such thing as comfort.

Macaroni and cheese or chicken soup
are the foods we eat when we need it
and we need it
because we don’t have it,
brothers and sisters.

I tell you that we all try
to cling to a thing
or grab for someone
or return to a place
seeking that which is
not possible.

Just as soon as we get, we begin
to chafe against the wool of the sweater
or get gas from the banana pudding
or see nose hairs in his gaping nostrils
‘til we just want to plug up the holes
with our fingers and try to get a little
peace inside.


  1. Whew! That last stanza is something else! I really enjoyed this.

  2. Anonymous11:50 AM

    LOL I laugh because I SOOO understand this poem. *Sigh* Thank you for writing what is in the majority of womens, and SOME mens, heads.

  3. funny...and nice."banana pudding" i think that is tonights desert....yikes


Feel free to critique the poetry. I employ a sophisticated thick hide technology.