The Grape-Nuts of Wrath

From the bed to the window

takes me a good, quiet minute,

from the window to the toilet

takes me a minute or two, everybody shush,

from the toilet to the closet

takes my breath away for a spell,

from the closet back to bed

takes my eloquence très rapide:

no situation is permanent, you said,

each day a different horse on the carousel,

each breakfast something small in a bowl.

I will choose to be as grateful as I can

for having survived the crash;

what’s the purpose in hurling the warm sweet milk 

against a wall that can’t even defend itself?

They say that the Saturday after next 

something special’s in the works for dessert. 

When I poke my straw 

into the lid of my ice water cup

it makes a sound like some kind of 

sing-song gasp of weak praise,

and I raise my hand up to say amen. 

Rich Boucher resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Rich’s poems have appeared in The Nervous Breakdown, Eighteen Seventy, Menacing Hedge, The Rye Whiskey Review and Cultural Weekly, among others, and he has work forthcoming in Pulp Literary Magazine and Eunoia Review. Rich recently served as Associate Editor for the online literary magazine BOMBFIRE. He is the author of All Of This Candy Belongs To Me, a collection of poems published by Jules’ Poetry Playhouse Publications. Peep richboucher.bandcamp.com for more. He loves his life with his love Leann in the perpetually intriguing Southwest.