DRESS CODE > POETRY
Someone at work
who admired my work
on a project once said to me
I’m surprised at your messy desk.
The unorganized can appear
put together on the outside.
Lipstick, organic silk top,
straight-leg slacks
(hiding panties with torn lace)
practical, yet chic footwear
(never mind the scuffed toes).
Kudos to those who keep
their kitchens army-tidy
and living rooms,
because visitors should never
see the real minefield of you:
unfiled files under-bed grotto,
the sock-underwear-and-misc. drawer.
Where the hell is
that silver belt those downloaded
glacier photos,
the overdue AMEX bill?
The tomato paste for tonight’s pasta
expired last year.
Shots on the house for the frazzled,
the discombobulated,
the pixilated
whose haphazardness
has power over them.
Let’s give ourselves a break.
After all
have you seen pictures
of Albert Einstein’s desk?
Karen Paul Holmes began her career as an overworked waitress in a busy diner, a cashier at a car wash, then a tired government worker. She finally made it to Corporate America, eventually serving as VP-Marketing Communications for a global financial services company for many years. Luckily, Holmes now leads a kinder, gentler life as a poet and freelance business writer. She won the 2023 Lascaux Poetry Prize. Her poems have been featured on The Writer’s Almanac, The Slowdown, and Verse Daily, and journal credits include Valparaiso Review, Plume, and many more. Her second book is No Such Thing as Distance (Terrapin). You can find Karen at Karenpaulholmes.com and Facebook