Sweating underneath the Ice
Debbie Kirk
Insomnia is a gift
best reserved for the damned
The tick tocking is mocking
beating hard deep inside my chest
Glowing with irony
as it’s long arms
touch me
And it may be an urban myth
but I often dream about
waking up in a tub full of ice
and the sharp ones are angry with me
as they spent hours cutting
only to find out the hard way
just how heartless I really am
Each time I have this dream
The men with the knives
have aged a bit
You come along and think you’re the yellow brick road
to Oz
You’ve never seen me
hide behind my own curtains
pulling out my teeth one by one
and throwing them at paper.
If you see a girl who looks like me
wearing ruby red slippers
its only a coincidence
I can’t even pledge allegiance to the flag
place your hand over your...
yet you want me to pledge my devotion to you?
You’d have a better chance
beating the flying monkeys
at a game of chess
I heard the glass crystal break years before I left Kansas
