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Lost The Script
I’ve lost the script, chapter and verse, everything
I say and do just comes out wrong, a perfect time
to write a book, the protagonist is young, singing
the role of Christine in Phantom, a brilliant cook
Goes overseas, dances the Sugar Plum Fairy in the
Nutcracker Suite - back to reality: the steel pins came
out, the leg bent at the knee, pain excruciating, even
worse is the heartbreak of knowing Nico lost
Such bitter tears - my story progresses as we drive up
and down - the protagonist also reads philosophy at
university, a versatile personage in the tradition of
the independent woman described by Jane Austin
Her heroines never married for expediency; Carine’s
salary has been halved – a shock all around – you
changed into a lightning bolt; threatening to annul
our marriage because I sullenly refuse to serve
Endless glasses of wine, I’m angry; weak muscles
indicate special treatment is needed; yet you both
refuse to consult the experts, saying walking will
happen all by itself – I am resigned – maybe
Another miracle will manifest, it happened before,
why not again, right here, right now?
poem
by
Margaret Alice Second
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