MaNHaTTaN Linear

by Nikki Stiller

The student papers go unread,

I get to class in time,

as an actor I never know my lines;

doors do not open, buds do not sprout,

I stand rooted to the spot,

but I am young again

and ready to give birth to a child.

Obsessions of the night,

the day’s detritus,

revealing us for what we are,

the scared and scarred,

the wishful and betrayed.

I wake to find

the possibilities are gone,

but the dread lives on.