Tonight's Poet Corner: Stress Reducer

Stress Reducer
by Belinda Roddie

Cotton amber fireflies
soothing a lemon tongue
can do wonders for a seven-track CD
brain with the laser caught on a stain
and skipping the same three notes
over and over and over again,
the ice synchronizing in your lungs,

swimming pool full of warm pudding
to dip your swollen knots into,
the twists loosening like a corkscrew
pulling out cheap residue from a cheap
vial. The TV is not willing to

shut off, so you mute it and ignore the
shrieking Picasso mouths stretched out into
bubblegum snaps and offer a spray of
vintage relaxation to a friend.
Hopscotch with hot scotch, cool running
with cool rum, clam chowder appetizer
and a fall to the plush with your
toes against the ottoman, pushing you
into daylight before night's even done.

The sparks are crispy on your gums.
Chew them. Spit them out like
liquid firecrackers, watch them burn up into
red ash. Commit to the wing ding
font of your living room, where your brother is
drowning in a bucket of chum and your best friend
is kissing your sister, and you've got a second
term with Tuesday before blue school's over.