is through confident body language
and clear concise language.
Raise your hand high and say
I will volunteer to be lowered
into the abandoned well to rescue
that baby. Never mind your fears
of the dark, of small spaces, of babies.
Be sure to look people right in the eye
and return their handshakes
of congratulations firmly when you
emerge. Smile for the cameras
but don’t tell them that once
you got down there you were
surprised how at home you felt.
How it was like you had found
something you had been missing
your whole life but did not know.
Don’t tell them that the only reason
you came back up was
that damn baby.
We’ve All Done This.
I cracked an egg and there was a note inside. It said there are three roses
growing in your brush pile. It said
it is only March and already you have
ants in your kitchen. It said isn’t it sad
that without the peasants the castle
means nothing. It said god created
the heavens and the earth and the rest
is your problem. It said the Devil owns
a junk yard and he always has the part
you’re looking for. It said no one
can hear you singing with your mouth
closed. It said sometimes you don’t know
you’re falling until you’ve hit the ground.
Patrick Meeds lives in Syracuse, NY and studies writing at the Syracuse YMCA’s Downtown Writer’s Center. He has been previously published in Stone Canoe literary journal, the New Ohio Review, Tupelo Quarterly, the Atticus Review, Whiskey Island, Guernica, The Pinch, and Nine Mile Review among others.
