Ordinary

Annabelle

I don’t want to be ordinary.

You see ordinary people everywhere:

at the grocery store, loading their carts,

looking tired, checking the prices,

shuffling along like zombies.

Or where my mom and I have breakfast

every Sunday. We always get the waitress

with frizzy hair and she always asks the same thing,

Sunny-side-up or over-easy.

I wonder what her life is like:

does she have talents

she didn’t nurture

or did she always dream

of waiting on tables

at the Greek deli

where bloated pickles

float in humongous jars?

When I ask my mom

she tells me not to be a snob,

then she shakes her head at me

like she can’t figure out why

I wonder about such stupid things.

I think she forgets what it’s like

to worry about your future

and ponder what kind of life

you might have one day

when you have no talent

and when you’re an idiot,

because you can’t walk past

a lounge just because

your ex-best friend is there

on the other side, inside

a group you were both in awe of

just last year.

Mr. Dawe says I have a talent

for organizing people

and motivating them

to take action.

But can I make a future out of that?