Yes, I am a rebel. Striking out at the windmills that still haunt me. Today, that windmill is change. Specifically facts I was taught as a child that fallen by the wayside.
For example, I was very good at math. Yet, when I try to explain to my kids how to figure out equations, it becomes an effort of futility as my math has become a foreign language.
Another is my refusal to give up on poor Pluto. Last year I read an article reviewing the New Horizon photographs as the satellite passed through the Kuiper Belt in 2016. I was impressed how the planet put on a show for us to recognize it, showing a heart and even bleeding from the left lobe, pleading for us to reinstate it back among the gas giants. Yet, since 2006, Pluto remains a “dwarf.”I refuse to conform. After all, what are very excellent mothers expected to serve?
Have a slice and chill out a moment with my good buddy Pluto. And maybe, just maybe, someone will be moved to bring pizza back to the mnemonic devices of my youth.
A Cold and Less Significant Pizza
(My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Us Nothing)
On a rock far away,
in the dark and cold of shadows,
along the edge of solar pull,
how does your blood
stain my thoughts
one forgotten,
one lesser somehow
than those who have spun,
dancing their days in circles
for your attention,
while I shiver,
looking again,
only to discover
it is my own wounds
that bleed,
it is my own blood
that goes unnoticed
| Copyright © 2021 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there. |
No comments:
Post a Comment