…some of us practice daily escapism, and some of us write poetry about it. here’s my latest post to the Literati Mafia collective.

The literati mafia

i knock the last of my iced coffee back

like it’s a whiskey shot

grimace at the bitter taste of the brew

diluted with coconut almond milk

i got a lot to get done today

and so i toss a chaser of water down my gullet

not even bothering to swish my teeth

this is what life has come to

i have a flashback from my youth

listening to jethro tull because it was cool

to like bands from my parents’ childhood

when i was only thirteen

and in the throes of pre-self-discovery

i didn’t really understand the lyrics

like i didn’t understand

what life would come to

i know i have to pull myself together

but ian anderson’s flute is calling me

it was never my favorite music, still isn’t,

but somehow it’s chained me to this reverie

and so i sit here, putting off the inevitable

the cycles…

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when writing, i am at my most preoccupied with the intricate workings of the world.

2 thoughts on “escape”

  1. There is something about your poetry that I simply cannot explain, y’know, Mariah?
    It’s odd, I’ve seen so much, from surrealism to absurdism, modernism to lyricism, from the greatest shoulders of elucidated men we stand upon, to minor figures attempting to unearth their own emotions.
    But you, you have a touch that is so much yours, so unique, so beautiful.
    I love this, I love everything you write.

    Liked by 1 person

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