The 4 Day Chariot — A Poem

Hello, fam.  I have just arrived home.  Before I head off to bed, here is a poem I wrote real quick to share because when it comes to poetry, I have no self control.

If you can gather from the poem, I have just returned from a very long car ride.  Like a week long in a car.  But it’s fine.  I’m fine.

My knee won’t stop popping, but I’m fine.

 

The 4 Day Chariot

I fall from the door with a
flop.
My knees are jelly—strawberry probably.
I’ve fallen like this
three times today already—just a
gas station reprise. My clothes have been
wrinkled.
For days—I’m in a daze made of paper meals
and Styrofoam drinks.
Four days for a drive home—duplication of the
drive there. I bought four music boxes and a
deck of cards at the music museum, but the weight
is dragging me down and making it harder to
leave this place I have
fallen from

and get back in the chariot for another
four days.

My deodorant ran out this morning—my arm
pits burn from the plastic I
s c r a p e d
against my skin in hopes to have enough for
one more day. The vagabond in me secretly
loves this kind of life—writing. No stop.
Riding. No stop. The gypsy is content to
stay here too. The road.

But the wanderer. The poet. She just wants
to stop for a moment and enjoy what can be
seen from the places we fall—
because when
we fall off our chariots and end the four day
pyramid scheme daze, we might find a new
something to take home with our
music boxes.

 

Hope you enjoyed this poem!  I wrote it just for you!  ❤  Promise.

Have a lovely rest of your Monday!

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