I wrote maudlin yet acerbic and generally unpublished poetry
I felt wobbly from all the sobriety
Maybe I was more porous and primed for inspiration
I studied garden-variety sex offenders and activist judges
Lean into the lack of attention, they said, absorb what you can
So many memoirs hijacked by the process
Because of the dearth of leaking in the prosaic
The list of ex-lovers and dead pets grew ever longer
At best we were all just stumbling forward
To rage inside then splurge on sushi
To find joy in Yiddish words – Oysgamtert, Ongeptschket, and Plosher
Five hours in the real world without a phone and nothing bad happened
Warning: crooked teeth can hold you back
The browning banana on my desk filled me with ennui
And I didn’t want to be the smelly teacher
(Coven wasn’t my cup of tea)
Don’t listen to Leonard Cohen if you’re going through a break up, I cautioned
I only stole lines from non-poets
I was exhibitionistic on facebook and loved online shopping
It was awkward for all of us so we tried to forget
There was a woman afraid of giving candy to poor children
There were animals that sweetly became cross-species friends
I said I believed most of us need the eggs
And hoped for a taxi
I could never do without friends or contact lenses
Some days peanut butter and crackers were the best
--Diana Rickard
Diana Rickard is an Assistant Professor of Criminal Justice at Borough of Manhattan Community College, CUNY. She writes poems and has been known to bead office supplies. She keeps several blogs, including one highlighting some of her older poems: http://eachnervoussense.blogspot.com/.