Dora does not wake when the moon
shines a line of soft light across her face.
The raccoon effect is reversed.
The sheets are a bit twisted.
The pillow bent in a u-shaped.
She learns a new and iambic language
from the backs of sugar-free cereal boxes.
The language is a celestial gift to explain
the divine mysteries, but so few people
are prepared to utter one word in discourse.
And Dora has no one to practice with.
For today only, she removes her left arm
and replaces it with the latest engineered prosthetic
for the sole purpose of opening her eyes
by walking a mile in other shoes
and to feel those particular body and heart aches.
She has tools most of us do not carry
or refuse to pick up when we come across them
during this flesh and blood version of an MMO game
where no point total is posted in the upper right corner
and there are no do-overs.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
MMO means Massively multiplayer online game.
Whenever the moon shines a stripe across my face I wake up. So those people who do not wake at the change of the room’s light intensity amazes me. Then again, I am very wired into the sun’s rhythms for sleep.
I like the idea (thought) that life’s mysteries are revealed on something mundane like cereal box backs. The answers to the mysteries should not be shielded and interpreted by a select group of priests (gatekeepers).