She’s got the Jimjams
by Ralph-Michael Chiaia
She spills her coffee
blinks many times
she has a problem
with her nerves
needs
only for one somebody
to tell her: “It’ll be okay.”
I can’t do that
oppressed by this smog
chased by a zillion
needling archers
meddling with
my synaptic canals.
Maybe tomorrow,
maybe never
maybe she’ll run off with her boss
who’s at least rich.
