Ode To Her Love for Neil Diamond
her anxiety embraced the spotlight
like a naked Neil Diamond
belting a continuous stream of classics
from behind the dressing room curtains
of her mother’s old record player
this morning she awoke gloom filled
and cranky
but several songs into The Jazz Singer
she steps out of the shower sufficiently armed
the words to Love On The Rocks weaving
shiny chain mail beneath her skin and depositing the bones
of dead dragons at her feet, beasts she’s recently defeated
“Don’t let the Old Spice fool you.” she whispers
to the ghost of an angry Joan Rivers
“This album’s great!” and with her courage
newly side-burned and the next eight hours
she’ll have to spend working
her crappy job sufficiently sequined
she finds strength once again to face another
Today!