Friday, September 2, 2011

Poem: An Ode to Joe


Joe

It isn’t the early morning sound
Annoyingly invading my ear
That causes my body to ascend.

No. It is my mind’s addiction.
Its need
That lifts me from seven hours of rest.

Eyes open,
Thoughts scattering for a few moments
Until they firmly fix themselves onto one element,
Reciting its divine name in my head.

Haphazardly,
I stumble though the hall,
Into the so-called woman’s place in a home. 

There, in silence,
My movement becomes automatic – like a robot,
Systematic.

Indonesia. Columbia. Brazil. Hawaii.
I suppose I should be grateful to all

Start – the green light illuminates.

Done – three steady beeps go off.

Yes.

Columbia.

My gratefulness rests, in great, 
To those select few
Who mistakenly founded my mind’s habit
eons ago in Ethiopia. 

My morning jolt of perfection is indebted to those.

Mary Jane Mircovich - 2010

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