Friday, July 1, 2011

Dear Diary:


The one day that I am home sick is the one day
that everyone goes on a balloon ride. Just my luck. You know, it's funny how they always seems to save up those days of blissful perfection for when I am not around. All I am ever privy to is the struggle and the hard-work that gets them the funds to be able to have outings like this one.
But, no matter--I guess I can just take a vacation day or two-go skydiving or something much more exciting than a stupid balloon ride. Or I could just take another personal day, catch up on my soaps. Much better than riding in a balloon with a bunch of assholes.
Posted by at
Labels: , , , ,

3 comments:

  1. EllaJuly 1, 2011 at 11:03 AM

    Sad for you, but take this solitude and create something beautiful out of it. Write, create, dance sing...do something for your spirit. Let it glide...you don't need a damn balloon to do that~
    I know it hurts; I have missed out on some magical experiences, but find a way to please your soul!xXx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis HallJuly 1, 2011 at 5:36 PM

    you bet.
    enjoy the ride.

    ReplyDelete
  3. bttrflyscarJuly 6, 2011 at 7:48 AM

    oh satire, you've failed me again.

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • self
    nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
  • small stone #8
    Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
  • in tact
    sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
  • storm
    driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
  • travel
    Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
  • indigo
    as I left the waterfront and I climbed up the sandy stair as always his brothers were first; to greet me. I've had past dealings with th...
  • Day 3
    The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
  • Day 2
    Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
  • Day 17
    Private Edgar Perry for Edgar Allen Poe I reported for duty, a Bostonian, surly, moody, unsteady. Twenty and two, not eighteen, Yes, twenty ...
  • Day 28
    in August for John Keats I didn't die unrequited. I took a wife in August. My wife was wearing silky white shoulders holding out her bon...

Poets United Contributor