Spilled

Poetry

Oct 20

I’ve spilled my soul
all over the diner
floor in a random
town in the middle
of Anytown USA
and I am too scared
to pick it up because
the onlookers are
very perplexed by
all of the strange
things that lay
puddling on the
red ceramic tile

I look over at it and
see some bits from
childhood as if they
were reflecting back
to me as a reminder
that time is only
as deep as this
small puddle and
that I should also
order cheese grits
and get on with
my forlorn day

I look around at
all of the other
people sitting in
their booths without
a care in the world
and then I look back
at my soul puddle
and realize that
all of my hopes
and dreams might
just be at the bottom
of the Heinz ketchup
jar that the waitress
just left on the end
of the table for my
American burger