A clever joke slipped through the filter
between my brain and my tongue,
crashing to the floor
like a drink a drunken hand
carelessly forgot.
My slick witticisms splattered
all over my feet.
Before I could shake it off
with charm and change of subject,
I was called out.
I was on my knees
wiping up the mess with the hem of my dress.
But the broken glass could not be fixed
and the words would not return
to the errant fold of my brain from which they sprouted.
All my beauty was grotesque,
my pride turned to shame,
and I became
everything I hate.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I've had moments like this, that lack of self control, unexpectedly seizes your mouth and suddenly, no longer as sophistocated as you pretend, though I never wear dresses...I know where you've been! Geo
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