hand me a bible quick
there’s a dribble bug
crawling up my thigh
and he has antennas
he’s posted a note on
my doorjamb-saying don’t
weave or determine your
self at liberty to discuss
any self aligned pre-
occupations with your
own humanity or concept
of some inordinate freedom.
his cage door opened
once more – he motioned
enter here, go sit down, shhh
straighten those parlor clothes
don’t prattle on about these
things that don’t concern you.
sit contently and wait
my fortune to befall you
upon that last breathe
after i have lived my life
you’ll arise to glory
but for now – stop here.
but i have a firecracker.
i’m exploding this cage as
soon as he leaves the room
till then – i’ll smile.
© Donna L. Quesinberry, All Rights Reserved