Quickie of The Day, Monday, Oct. 4, 2010

Greetings all.  Today is another one of those days when I'm really feeling the words of someone else.  An absolutely amazing writer, Megan Rickman is another shining example of poetry at its finest.  Enjoy this poem, as I did, and certainly check out her page, linked below.

What Happened

by Megan Rickman

Tuesday

I wore his tongue like an old t-shirt,
familiar,
comfortable,
easy to slide into.
I tried to apologize for not seeing the fashion in functionality sooner,
But he pressed his smile against my jawbone and I could not remember how to speak.

Wednesday

I was baptized in God’s wishing well.
Washed clean in water so reflective,
for a second,
I would have sworn that they were dunking me into sky.
I chased a freight train as long as a Lauryn Hill album clear cross Colorado,
round sunset Kansas plains fade into hues of gold and change,
Leaving only the road,
God’s shadow,
And six hours to figure out if I was bravely driving towards my destiny,
or running away from it with my tailpipe between my legs.

Thursday

I herded semis across a field that dressed up in silos and leaned against wooden fence posts.
Watching a thousand stories come, and just as quickly, go.
Found a radio station in Missouri that could have talked me into moving.
They played Mos Def and Led Zeppelin.
Soundtracked my solidarity,
For 126 miles,
I didn’t feel so alone.
Somewhere in Kentucky there is an interstate that slit a mountain wide open.
Asphalt incision.
Gashed into once proud stone.
A sign warned of a landslide.
Looked more to me like the earth finally started scabbing over.

Friday Morning

They called it Fog,
But I distinctly remember the screams of clouds committing suicide.
One told me,
That the raindrops had talked him into jumping.
Relentless stories of how good life was for them,
Down here,
on the ground.
I smiled and pretended I didn’t know any better,
watched his last breath condense against palm pressed into windshield.
Blinked back tears and disappointment as I crested the Blue Ridge,
And the skyline started showing signs of home.