Horizontal zag. Vertical skew.
A rough go of it today,
the large engulfed by the little.
A day including scorched water,
fumes of unknown origin,
a machine that morphed into a monster.
Leaving a trail of brake oil
after my joyride into the wilderness.
Contemplating a shaved head
to tame the demon hair-do.
Jousting with the ridiculous.
One of those days you need to forget badly.
A celebration of blows and monotony,
of awareness’s petty strains, its paltry damages;
and no one to blame but who.
Then scurrying home in the evening skulk
and finding refuge with the bottle.
The one you knocked off the high shelf.
The bruises for all to see.
Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician, is a multiple Pushcart nominee with poems published in hundreds of magazines such as Poetry, Rattle and the North American Review. His books are ‘The So-Called Sonnets (Silenced Press); ‘An Unbecoming Fit Of Frenzy; (Cawing Crow Press) and ‘Like As If” (Pski’s Porch), Hearsay (The Poet’s Haven).