The table centerpiece
becomes a spinning disco ball
giving me a severe case
of Saturday night fever
as it begins reflecting neon lights
on popcorn ceiling.
Illuminated eyes suspend my mind.
Dizzy, I swallow sandpaper Saltines
hoping to settle my acrid stomach
but psychedelic beads appear duct taped
haphazardly across the beam
between my eyes, acrobatic stunts.
Mirrored squares flash Morse code S.O.S.
Village People blast from the past—Y.M.C.A.
My tingling arms do the motions
but my head still spins. Suspended
in time. Rainbows rotating floor
3 feet off center.
I limbo to the couch and dream Monet.
About the Poet:
Laurie Kolp, author of Upon the Blue Couch and Hello, It’s Your Mother, has poems in concis, Prelude, Crack the Spine, Up the Staircase, Front Porch Journal, and more. An avid runner and lover of nature, Laurie lives in Southeast Texas with her husband, three children and two dogs. Learn more at http://lauriekolp.com.
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