AS SOON AS I HAVE SOME TIME

I can't get my fatigue in this poem.
My aching back, stress, depression
and this unforgettable discomfort
in my feet do not fit in it
after a day inside a pressure cooker.

There is no rhyme
that can relieve my calloused hands
and impure soul.
No metaphor can express
the exhaustion of this powerless woman,
or even these eyes of mine closing without my consent.

My bed waits for me like
an anxious lover.
I surrender.
Tomorrow will be just like today
with a strange night in between
and the foolish fears of ever.


My neurons have already put on their pajamas.
My body no longer obeys me.
I will try to answer my questions tomorrow
after two thousand reports and e.mails
or as soon as I have some time
between a cup of coffee and
the same crowded bus at 5:30 a.m.
Good night.



Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2011