Is the week where I did
Nothing Right. Reminded at each
moment, each turn of my head,
each lifting of my eyes
toward the speaker’s face,
how I had failed
to attain perfection
in the perfect diet. Not enough
calcium the nurse said without test.
The scale turned to me and said
I didn’t exercise often enough
and lacked both the minutes and heart
rate of perfection.
My employee pointed out
my typo and disheveled stacks of papers
and how I should not kill so many trees.
I turned and opened 7 emails
telling me replies overdue
recalculate projections, and create a new policy.
Promote our organization’s anniversary.
My daughter explained it was my fault
she slept in
And my son told me to go away, too close.
The post office delivered proof
I don’t make enough money,
My professor said my paper
was not quite good enough.
But you told me thanks
for the chai tea
and to screw them all.
This poem was inspired by the daily challenges individuals face that are unnecessarily troublesome. Be there good health, good food, safety, and wealth, yet still it is not enough for the daily critics of the unimportant; despite the attainment of so much, the perfection is unseen by some.