i went to the cupboard and the cupboard was bare, nothing there. i ran from the rat race and the clock struck one. darth and ella vader like to go up and down up and down. they’re really going places, those two. i want a vacation, i’ll fly off and take it. you sit on my egg. you try not to break it. you stay and be faithful. i’m hardly the sharpest tack in the box, but at least i don’t wear my sunglasses on top of my head in place of a hairband, just to look cool.
i told you the cupboard was bare.
listen. that girl was running a cheatin ring up in there, i don’t really know what else you want me to do. it’s one thing being sick to come to your job every day, it’s another to be in the middle of something you know is wrong. let the chips fall where they may.
getting my metaphors mixed (like a cocktail).
i stop to listen and there’s nothing there. calm, maybe, but nothing for my belly.
and the babies just popping out all over the place.
Naomi Buck Palagi has been interested in “shaping crafts” such as woodworking, sewing, writing and singing since her childhood in rural Kentucky. She became focused on poetry as an amazingly flexible vehicle for thought and communication, and has work published in journals such as Spoon River Review, Otoliths, Moria, Eleven Eleven, and Blue Fifth Review. Additionally, she has two chapbooks, Silver Roof Tantrum (dancing girl press, 2010), and Darkness in the Tent (Dusie Kollectiv 5, 2011). She lives in Northwest Indiana with her husband and two young children, and works days as a secretary at a college in Gary while pursuing a master’s degree.