Meditation When Morale Is Low

The curtains refuse to open.
The ceiling fan spins itself
sick, vomits
on the carpet. The couch is on
drugs again. A black fog
fills the hall
& instead of running,
I walk into it,
deprive my eyes
until I have forgotten
what the bustling wallpaper
looks like.
When I return,
even the beige
& grays are sparkling, even
watching golf doesn’t seem
so boring. Look
how they walk on green water!
Look how they feed the clouds
little balls of cotton!

Grant Chemidlin is a queer writer and poet living in Los Angeles. He is the author of two collections of poetry, He Felt Unwell (So He Wrote This) and Things We Lost In The Swamp. He’s been a finalist for the Gival Press Oscar Wilde Award, the Philip Levine Prize for Poetry, and is currently pursuing an MFA at Antioch University Los Angeles. You can find more of his work on Instagram: @grantcpoetry.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.