Tuesday, November 26, 2024

Poetry Journal Feb. 20, 2024


 Feb. 20, 2024

 

She must be scared to death or maybe bored to death, having to do this all over again after so long believing she would never have to – the hamster wheel in her head spinning faster and faster or maybe – as Todd Rungrin once put it – the merry-go-round she just can’t get off of or at least not on the ground, spinning round and round, up and down, dizzying to watch even from a distance, painful to endure since she assumed the ride had ended long, long ago.

This is not what she wanted when she bought the ticket; it is what she got stuck with, and must wait out the ride, for when the spinning stops, wherever that goes, and wherever she ends up


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