Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #211
The Day Is Long
by Belinda Roddie
The day is long, and I have gotten more
exhausted with each tick of the wall clock,
like a heart beat or wave against the shore
in its incessant, loud tick-tock, tick-tock.
I haven't eaten since fifteen past noon,
and I can feel a squeezing in my head
like I'm to be popped like a fat balloon
and explode outward in a sea of red.
Look, I am even becoming grotesque
in my language because I am so worn
down and mentally drained. I need to rest
with a cider in my hand and a torn
up sandwich in my stomach. Then, at last,
on a warm bed with my lover I'll crash.
by Belinda Roddie
The day is long, and I have gotten more
exhausted with each tick of the wall clock,
like a heart beat or wave against the shore
in its incessant, loud tick-tock, tick-tock.
I haven't eaten since fifteen past noon,
and I can feel a squeezing in my head
like I'm to be popped like a fat balloon
and explode outward in a sea of red.
Look, I am even becoming grotesque
in my language because I am so worn
down and mentally drained. I need to rest
with a cider in my hand and a torn
up sandwich in my stomach. Then, at last,
on a warm bed with my lover I'll crash.
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