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Extract, by Britta Benson

Hello poetry friends. Today I’ve got an ‘Extract from the ‘How not to live’ manual’ for you. I had fun writing it, but I believe an ‘Extract’ is quite enough. You’ll get the picture.





Extract from the ‘How not to live’ manual





I stare at the clouds,

hoping they spell

a message for me.





I pine for signs

in the books I eat,

look for clues

in the lines

the radio sings

straight into my heart.





Please, please, please,

I beg,

point me north

or towards

a destination.





I scrutinize my eyes

in the bathroom mirror,

wondering why

they are filled

to the brim

with the souls

of others.

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