by Robin Wright
For Mariann Edgar Budde
Rip off the band aid
of sarcasm, hurt, madness,
drop it in the trash,
bend down on your knees,
push that trash down deep.
Don’t use one hand,
drop both in and push,
push hard. Stand up
close your eyes, take a breath.
Now you’re ready
for those who haven’t
completed the steps, those
who will test you and flunk you.
Their grade book closed,
locked with their own
unkindness.
Robin Wright lives in Southern Indiana. Her work has appeared in One Art, As it Ought to Be, Subliminal Surgery, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Loch Raven Review, Panoply, Rat’s Ass Review, The Beatnik Cowboy, Spank the Carp, The New Verse News, and others. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee and a Best New Poets 2024 nominee. Her first chapbook, Ready or Not, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2020.