Poetry Friday

I Make an Appointment

because I am pregnant,

and I feel fat, bored, and

and unappealing to the eye.

I make an appointment.

Pedicure on Tuesday

manicure on Thursday.

That’s where all the people

who don’t Have to work hang out.

But I

am only passing through.

I am only

here for nine months.

Over on the counter

are the nail polish

all lined up,

beckoning you

To choose

Deep purples and bubble gum pinks

electrifying blues and jubilant jades

with names like, You Don't Know Jacques, Over the Taupe,

Flashbulb Fuchsia, and Your Villa or Mine?

Delightful,

dazzling,

desirable.

I eagerly open

and coat each finger

with a different Enamel.

A different opportunity for excitement.

But then

I succumb

to the usual.