Medusa’s day off

I forget sometimes and scratch my scalp,
come away with bite marks on the finger

tips, at the bare bone of the knuckles --
those little bastards are vicious 

these days, biting the hand that doesn’t
feed it; the new diet is killing 

me and my therapist says I need 
to go out on a date; I’m stuck behind 

that moving truck at the flashing yellow 
intersection, and happen to glance 

out the window – the poor jogger is stone; 
I honk at the truck, readjust 

the sunglasses, the hat and hope 
I make it home before I freeze the world over.

Monday! I feel like a gorgon today -- so I wrote about it. luckily it still fits

into my American Sonnet, girl model :)