Declarative.

I wrote this poem because my daughter told me the period I was inserting at the end of my texts was aggressive. Huh, and I just thought I was using grammar appropriately. It was created with Twenty Little Poetry Projects by Jim Simmerman.

JL March 24, 2021

Declarative.

My text punched her aggressively.

I wrote, “I need your help with dinner tonight.”

She saw words, but heard anger in the tone. The phone burned her hand, the 

smell of burning flesh suffusing her nose and mouth with bitterness

Her mother reached out from the screen to give a lashing, shouted at her and 

gave her a withering stare.

Abby there in her office in Grand Junction, Colorado suffered from the insult. 

That text was not aggressive, dear.

But maybe it was, and I don’t know the rules.

It’s not like I was throwing shade.

This phone has created conflict among factions.

If I were to complain that communication is dead, she would just casually 

say, “RIP.”

This irksome period of antagonism plagues me.

It is about as declarative to her as a riot.

Like she shrunk down to size, and was battered by punctuation.

Mommy was confused because of grammar.

Next time, I will think before hitting that key,

And use the more practical, nothing.

I will unlearn that which I did learn in time.

Oh esset annorum, et imprudente.* 

The period must step up to the guillotine and accept its fate,

As I in whose brain holds the intent still wonder over the dot by

the last word

* Oh, to be old and unwise

© 2021 Joan M. Leinbach