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"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton 

Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web.  She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time. 

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Tuesday morning.

late at 8:42 a.m., past neon construction workers watching my dress
someone shouts over the jackhammer, all I hear is “baby” but I ignore them
smiling at my phone because you sent another adorable text
shortcut through the projects, my forgotten purse on the kitchen counter
naked and abandoned baby doll smudged with grime
the child probably lost sleep and there she lies, alone by the dumpster
past the men smoking cigarettes while speaking french creole
I begin to walk into the street and glance up at the line of pigeons
there’s a slight chance they will shit on me just as I pass
so I hustle past the edge of the building, tipping my sunglasses onto my head
past the boys in the entry way who pretend that I’m not there
all staring at their smart phones, into the building, then the mollifying
good morning, good morning, how are you today, m’am
fine, thank you, and you, and sometimes I’d prefer to be fucking invisible


© 8.23.2016 heather brager

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