Molly Fisk: American Riddle

Wow, it’s great to recognize yourself in somebody else’s poem.

Vox Populi

When you can’t figure out how to stop

the war in Iraq, much less how to make

enough money to pay your mortgage,

moving the hundred and eighty dollars

from savings back into your checking

account as if that will help — when it’s

all you can do to acknowledge the actual

world and not lose yourself half the afternoon

in People Magazine where the movie stars

revolve like frosted cakes in a glass case

at the old Lady Baltimore bakery

on Throckmorton, before your home town

became so chic none of the kids

from your high school could afford

to live there — when you’re so tired

of reinventing yourself you want to lie down

on the road, right on the double yellow line

in front of your driveway, exactly where

two of your cats have been killed and wait

for someone to run you over but with your…

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