South Park
I am standing
at the kitchen sink.
Your house, bling
Don't know why
but I can't, think.
I am playing by
the rules
But they keep
changing
I have lost
my tools.
Where did I go
I was here
Last time
I looked
Before
my essence
preci'd into
sudsy soapy bits
Down the hole.
It wasn't a rhyme
about Alice
it was me
straight up
Against malice.
Do you prefer
the girl who cries
in her pud
The one you left
in South Park
She died
Deleted
in the dark.
It's a part of living
to clean up
my giving
I'm getting better
with every word
Clearing my head
setting the sword
I throw them down
one by one but
Paired is better
ask Noah
The go-getter.
I am making space
to take in more of me
And I know
I am not
Out of my tree.
Never changing
for hatred again
No one can cause me
any pain
I'm so cut up
there are no more bits
Big enough to fit
inside the slits.
Ill-fitting pieces
Meatballs from mince
Don't wince,
I know
Analogies so.
I hear with my nose
and smell with my teeth
And just can't find out
What's beneath.
Copyright © Judith Palmer | Year Posted 2010
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