poetry

Oh my God, shut up Susan.

people drinking liquor and talking on dining table close up photo

Small talk
about the holidays
new year, new you
maybe you’ll go paleo—
there’s no way out of this room

Small talk
about the weather
mudslides and ice patches
maybe you’ll buy new boots—
there’s no way out of this exchange

Small talk
about the community
the alderman is up for re-election
maybe you’ll remember to vote—
there’s no way out of this moment

Small talk
about the neighbors
always screaming and banging
maybe you’ll call the cops later—
there’s no way out of this script

If I could
I would fold myself up
slip through the walls
and disappear forever
but you’re here, talking at my face
with the expectation of geniality
so just give me a moment
to think up some bullshit
just give me a moment
to breathe.

© Nancy Botta, 2018

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12 thoughts on “Oh my God, shut up Susan.

  1. life is a succession of ongoing panic attacks, varying by degree. I liked this. It speaks of a mind content to reside within it’s own space, not wishing any intrusion. I understood it entirely 🙂

    Like

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