poem a day: haiku
poem a day: #4

poem a day: #3

BeerMug Moi The prompt today was to start your poem with the phrase "The Trouble with [Blank]. I got an early start on this one, but I'm still not keen on it. I've been pecking at it all day, since about 10 AM, in between running out to Whole Paycheck in the hardest rain I've seen in years (seriously, the ceiling was about 100 feet and the visibility something like maybe 60 feet just as I was coming out of the store. I don't know how people were driving in it.) And baking a cake. And cleaning up the kitchen. And cleaning up my in box. So don't expect much. It ain't there. Strictly first draft stuff, if that.

   

The Trouble With Mornings

Dawn, for a start.
Rosy fingered or not, she
slithers in between the gaps
and stabs me in the eye,
bum-rushing me out of Slumberland
to land tangled in my bed like Nemo.
Morning is so insistent,
a nag, a harsh boss, a killjoy.
It’s hard to wring the most out of the luscious night
when daylight demands
so much attention.

Given my druthers, I’d stay
in that nest of covers
especially on rainy, cold days,
wrapped up beneath the down
and Egyptian cotton sheets
like Proust. I’d write in bed,
have eggs benedict
and my first cup of tea
before exposing so much as a toe
to the cruel daylight.

At least let me
get up by increments:
first one eye, then the other,
and my knees and feet. Everything else between
will catch up eventually—
but not before noon.

And if you must wake me
before a decent hour,
keep the caffeine coming.
It’s the only antidote
to morning.

© Lee Kottner, 2009

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