#11 – Not Today.



There isn’t a poem today.


My mother bit it off

and chewed on it.


She hadn’t had her lunch,

She hadn’t slept well,

She was frustrated and angry,

today, last week, last year

when I was 15,

so she bit down hard

forgetting all of the idioms

the hands

the wolf

the bed

left me to tend to the wound

when I was 15,

last year, last week, today

I’m too tired to write a poem.


Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

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