Author: Robert McHenry
The nemesis squawks morning hymns
A slap to the forehead cools his vexatious panic
I rise from the molding of the mattress and oil the cogs
Time to wash away the rummage of slumber
I trudge to the lavatory, rebirth catching my eye
Pollock would appreciate the debut of my entangled locks
Each strand rock n’ rolling the other
They don’t allow the hair pick through the gaggle
He apologizes as he forcibly lifts strands from their seats
The sharp pain like heels stamping on my head, needle thin
My head takes on the guise of The Great Wave
I shrug unconcerned and blanket my ribcage
My segments clinched in blue
Ready for the diurnal course, I vault to the unbarred path
Trees sway to welcome
Flowers salaam of royalty
The breeze their grand marshal
Squirrels alert from high rise arbor
Mockingbirds partaking in scandal
Woodpeckers beating the chorus
I gyrate, drowning in immersion
I’ve made it through the ballroom
I turn back, a ravenous sycophant
Their world has grown silent
I am a lone observer