Sunday, December 11, 2011

Breakfast by Viktorsha Uliyanova


Birthday cake, one more year,
Smiles, swimming pools,
Tired, tired.
Drowning, waves of pressure on the bottom,
Nose bleeds,
News anchor in a freshly pressed suit
Screaming across a baseball field.
Droopy eyelids,
Too much coffee,
Tired, tired, Middle America.
Family dinners,
You, me, Mom, Dad,
Talks of higher education.
Babble, babble,
Shut up already.
Cattle, cattle,
We are sheep.
Me, me,
Turn the talking box on,
Brain-dead.
Turn off brain,
Brain-dead.
Drive in your car,
Plastic, plastic or paper?
Consume, consume.
Pay stubs, taxes,
Our family goes to church on Sundays,
Middle America.
My son is the student of the month,
Wednesday night youth group.
Bread, bread and milk,
Ten of each,
Coupons saved,
Consume, consume,
Sleep.

Author bio:

Viktorsha Uliyanova is an import from the old Soviet Union and is currently residing in Brooklyn, New York. Her poetry and fiction works focus on hidden politics, city panhandlers, and occasionally getting stuck in the black solar system. In addition to her writing, Uliyanova is an experimental, 35mm film photographer. Links:
Viktorhsa, Modern Mystery.

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