secret rhythm

Indian-goddesses

Secret Rhythm

He felt
he had
more limbs
than he
knew what
to do
with &
thought
maybe he
was a
Krishna or
a Vishnu
perhaps a
centipede or
an octopus,
something well
endowed with
appendages.

 

“Bobby hon
are you
alright
in there?”
his mother
called.
“Please baby,
come down
to dinner.”

 

“I’m not
hungry mother,
please
leave me
alone,”
he said
thru the
closed
bedroom door,
& she
went back
down the
stairs.

 

He sat
on his
unmade
bed in
the dark
with his
many arms
wrapped
around him,
rocking to
his own
secret rhythm.

Leave a Comment

Filed under poems & short jabs

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *