Don’t lose your compass

in the wilderness

Let’s repair what keeps you repeating

the history of Agnes of the Poor School Bus Monitors

or Sister Clara of Walmart greeters.

My Mallory Magenta,

You used to wear loose hair and tight dresses that shattered

his vision for anyone else

You married some stranger out of nowhere – weddings, babies,

jobs where you suffer

40 hours at the same table

with that old hag Vera who chews and snaps her gum.

chew. snap. chew. snap

Mallory Magenta, what happened

to those sparkling eyes that could see a thousand

futures with so much to say and people who listen

to what you are truly saying.

You wanted to live in harmony with that one vegan

with simplistic meals and extraordinary yoga practices.

Live with nature he says. Be nature he says.

You follow his path and lose your own compass

He was so peaceful during the hike but you wanted to scream

how he was thoughtless to drag you back to the trail too soon after having a baby

who wants to be freezing while living in a shed – “It’s good for the environment. Nature will be so happy

without engines and electricity. Warmth will come from sacrifice to Gaia and Artemis.”

That natural flow is not the path for you

Remember being familiar with Waffle House signs every 20 miles.

They could have some chicken and waffles

ready in mere 40 minutes.

Auntie Maria would say that you are too scrawny.

houses with no heating systems are for savages.

request the extra heart-shaped omelet.

you’ve waited so many years to try on a wedding dress

who cares if you have to wait another 20 years to

find a person worthy of putting on a corset?

the power of a love bomb is weak compared to hunger.

you could build a dam with wedding dresses that you have dreamt about.

none will stop the snowstorm from barricading you in a shack

it’s time to get out of that wilderness and find your own path

Poetry Maybe