Poetessa VI from LOUNGING POET by Charles Cicirella

Poetessa VI

I haven’t a clue what’s going on.
All I know is she’s gone.
And maybe it’s for the best or maybe it’s not.
I’m really not sure and I need a Tums.

I am almost used to the chalky taste.
It’s like I swallowed after-school detention.
I never understood what purpose a guidance counselor served.
I wonder if that is in some small part accountable for my no direction home status.

I only have myself to blame for the frustration and irritation I’ve lately been feeling.
I am tired of taking hold of my own rudder and wish I could find someone- anyone to go sailing with.
I remember going to Neff Rd. and walking down the pier.
I believe that was the time I saw Shannon’s rather out of control, sexy, blonde bush.

I probably shouldn’t be talking about another woman’s bush, but Poetessa is gone so I’m not sure what more collateral damage I could possibly cause as my words like daggers cut into her eye sockets.
I’m like a Takata airbag and no product recall will remedy this failing will.
Let’s not forget the good times when things meant to keep you safe didn’t wind up killing you because the only thing that matters to a company now is their profit and their greed.
Let’s not forget when the baby stars falling from the sky had our best interests at heart and typing the words “Come here” both stirred and leveled the playing field.

I am tired of board games and the button collection my cousin and I once coveted like gold doubloons.
I don’t care what Miss Scarlet is doing in the Conservatory with Colonel Mustard.
All I care about is proving to you how sorry I am and that what we had and still can have is real and not just gunshot residue.

Charles Cicirella
7/27/15

• Charles Cicirella
• Spoken Word
• charlespoet
• poetry
• poetry and music
• Cleveland