by Alex Stolis
I saw the sign and smiled,
you started singing
the Simon and Garfunkel song.
Tapping time on the steering wheel
Laughing as you forgot some words,
a high school favorite you said.
My side effects had reached their peak
lethargy, irritation, feeling a phantom
full bladder; sleep deprived
not enough sex,
the mind being willing
the meds stronger.
It was the wrong day to go,
Saturday afternoon
full of kids and families;
Daddy, I want that ice cream!
Daddy, I want to see the monkeys!
Mommy, pleasepleasepleaseplease buy me that stuffed animal!
You had that look of the cat that swallowed
a rainbow lorikeet.
I was sweating, a pulsing furnace of heat.
You tilted your head, tugged at my hand, pouting lips;
Daddy, I want that ice cream!
Daddy, I want to see the monkeys!
Mommy, pleasepleasepleaseplease buy me that stuffed animal!
You took me to the gift shop to look
for my spirit animal, gave up when none
spoke to you,
wrapped me in your arms, stood
on tiptoes, and kissed me; an ordinary
miracle to set me free.
© 2025 Alex Stolis All rights reserved.
Click or tap here to see Alex Stolis’s profile.
Use the “Leave a Comment” form below to share comments on this piece.