Tonight's Poet Corner: This Is Meant To Be Deep

This Is Meant To Be Deep
by Belinda Roddie

Today has held no meaning;
I assume that that's okay. I've
painted my nails gray and sipped
gray coffee from a chipped bowl.

The humidity is killing me. It's
autumn, but the air is thick. I see
children leap frogging over fountains
that haven't gushed water in over a year.

Outside, a man debates whether
or not he wants to be a patron. Maybe
he can't decide between a macchiato
or a chai. Oh, the mental conflicts he has
to endure in a suburban snakehole like this.

Elsewhere, buses break down on
the busiest street. The traffic lights
are blinking red. Eye open, eye closed,
eye open, eye closed. The riders all get out
and walk the last three miles back home.
They are sweaty and tired. A child drags
a torn up stuffed dinosaur against her
ankle. Her nose is dusted with gray.