Lost Cur

{This is in response to Michael Jackson’s Tuesday Scribes prompt.  The challenge is to “write a piece of internal monologue.”

Since I didn’t know exactly what this meant, I’ll assume some of you don’t either.  Luckily, Michael Jackson has kindly dug up a definition, which I hope I have adhered to, with this little poem:  

Encyclopaedia Britannica defines internal monologue as a:

‘….narrative technique that exhibits the thoughts passing through the minds of the protagonists. These ideas may be either loosely related impressions approaching free association or more rationally structured sequences of thought and emotion.’}

 

Where brick meets tar,

Where rubber meets road,

Where reality greets reflection,

Where miasma hovers

Over puddles:

There, lands a raindrop.

 

There, waiting anxiously,

Turning my back

On all that I cherish,

 

There, shall we meet,

And share wet kisses,

You, my sloppy pup,

And I.

 

 

Copyright 2018 Andrea LeDew