written by: Joan McNerney
We shuffle through grocery stores. Limp
lettuce, mushy tomatoes languish on counters.
Prices rise inexorably when we drive to
gas stations where fumes fill our nostrils.
My throat is dry and coated with metallic taste.
I guzzle a bottle of ice tea, saccharine sweet.
Our town park floods with children spilling over
brown grass, their shouts cutting the air.
Laundry comes out piping hot from
the dryer, zippers burning my fingers.
Clumps of wrinkled clothes wobble on chairs.
Unopened mail and dust cover my table.
A nylon nightgown sticks to my skin as
fans push warm air brushing my face.
The shrill of cicadas drown the night.
I wait now to melt into oblivion.
Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze, Blueline, and Halcyon Days. Three Bright Hills Press Anthologies, several Poppy Road Review Journals, and numerous Kind of A Hurricane Press Publications have accepted her work. Her latest title is The Muse in Miniature, available on Amazon and Cyberwit.
Latest posts by Joan McNerney (see all)
- Getting a Cup of Joe - March 10, 2023
- To The Cockroach - September 28, 2022
- Afterlife - June 1, 2022