Poetry Sunday

I need to get this done quickly, before my granddaughters wake up (they slept over last night) and want to get cracking with the baked apples they wanted for breakfast ...

Bottled Water

by Kim Dower

I go to the corner liquor store
for a bottle of water, middle
of a hectic day, must get out
of the office, stop making decisions,
quit obsessing does my blue skirt dash
with my hot pink flats; should I get
my mother a caregiver or just put her
in a home, and I pull open the glass
refrigerator door, am confronted
by brands—Arrowhead, Glitter Geyser,
Deer Park, spring, summer, winter water,
and clearly the bosses of bottled water:
Real Water and Smart Water—how different
will they taste? If I drink Smart Water
will I raise my IQ but be less authentic?
If I choose Real Water will I no longer
deny the truth, but will I attract confused,
needy people who'll take advantage
of my realness by dumping their problems
on me, and will I be too stupid to help them
sort through their murky dilemmas?
I take no chances, buy them both,
sparkling smart, purified real, drain both bottles,
look around to see is anyone watching?
I'm now brilliantly hydrated.
Both real and smart my insides bubble
with compassion and intelligence
as I walk the streets with a new swagger,
knowing the world is mine.


I tried smart water once ... but soon realized it was just water for dumb people who have more money than good sense.

It's going to be a busy day: after the girls get up and we have breakfast, it'll be time to get ready to head over to Dance Studio Lioudmila, where I'll be emceeing their Fall Showcase.

Good times!

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo