Sunday, October 20, 2013

prepositional poetry

Prepositional phrases don't get enough attention.
Allow me to indulge them as I recall where I found myself last night:

On a toilet seat
inside a washroom
with no mirrors
in an arctic arena north
of the border
with my makeup
in hand to check if that big zit that recently emerged
on my chin was still making an appearance
for my new friends-whom-I-haven't-met-yet who stand
in the lobby
with their Tim Horton's coffees and their tall boots that go
up to their kneecaps
with their smiles and their laughter which I am not yet privy
to I don't care
about that yes I do I wish I had people to laugh
with to share
with to be
with to love there I was
on the toilet wishing all
of these things and thinking
about prepositional phrase because well because that's what I do when I'm stuck
in a washroom
on a toilet looking
into a foggy mirror
at my own reflection longing
to impress people I don't know
with my aging non-beauty hoping that they'll see something worth talking
to and maybe just maybe I will want to hear them too.