In Therapy


While difficult, it’s necessary:
Please forget whatever you’ve learned.
Simply cast off far as your reach allows
Catch right out of your murky memory
Blue fins, red snappers, orange roughy.
Back farther still to the new golden oven
Our kitchen clock never learned the truth.
A fast 2/4 beat jazzy dancing
Upbeat, and a seductively winking
Sexy new VCR 12:00, 12:00, 12:00.
Technology became everyone’s
Personal red light districts.

Edison’s electricity fails
Exceptionally bright children.
Kicking the ground, head down,
Out until dinner’s ready or
We cross our fingers, she yells,
“I don’t feel like cooking, ya know?
You mind if we head to Figaro’s
For a coupleaslices and movies?”
Old, black and white anachronisms:
Laurel, Popeye, Lucy. Finally, the promised
Pizzas arrive dripping grease and saying cheese.
One pie done. “Mom” all turn at once
Six egret blonde necks crane
Towards sound as birds do
Before they fly off, too.
Cackling in the corner booth
Smacking on Juicy Fruit, Fruit Stripe,
Jaw jacking, laughing until they cry.
We taste their lemony demands,
Denied their own slices of pie.
Our fathers’ sweets from up north
Mountainous cheesecakes,
Spongy black and white cookies.
Dads come from the stripped albums
Reappear from their half of the picture,
As if a building in an earthquake split
In two as the house shook like a jell-o mold.
Waves of sound pulsing
The walls and the doors
Slam shut and bang
Time until another
Station plays a top ten chart hit argument.

Her next Marlboro hangs like
A twig from a crow’s feet.
Who has a light?

2 comments on “In Therapy”

    1. Grazi, kind sir. Wellness an my word well oppose one another, and not like a thumb to a hand. My writers block lifted but not to the heights of logorrhea as a few months back. Life becomes trickier as I watch my energy flow and ebb again, as my ADHD time vortex kicks up a wind and scatters my notebooks across the house like its autumn in New England.

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