Fred Aiken Writing

Category: Poetry

July 25, 2024

stuck in the middle of the road

i got stuck in the middle of the road,
and couldn't move,
though the light turned,
yet i stayed still
in the middle of the road,
as the cars piled up behind me,
honking, yelling expletives, expectorating
all sorts of vile things,
unchristian things,
unjewish things,
unmuslim things,
unbuddhist things,
perhaps things an atheist might say,
but believe it or not,
i stayed stuck
in the middle of the road
for all to witness and gawk at,
though hopefully someone found pleasure
in my stasis
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July 24, 2024

slept in

i woke up late
because in my dream
it was the weekend
and i was at home
eating a cantaloupe
while reading rimbaud
and not entirely sure what he was getting at,
though my wife kept nodding along
from one stanza
to the next,
so i suppose i should have understood
rather than being too tired to go to work
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July 23, 2024

figurative language

a language spoken whenever the curtains 
are drawn with amateur pieces of artwork
meant to look and sound like people,
but poor facsimiles missing lines
that make the figures look monstrous,
otherworldly, nothing like how the figures perceive how they look,
though if we're being perfectly honest,
they sound perfectly coherent, so there's that...
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