Control

He hides pens in his shoes
so his house staff won’t take them
away from him and call him
a thief.
He hates that word.
He wants cereal for breakfast
but the granola bar
is “what they’re having” this morning.
“Personal space,” they remind him
when he sneaks his girlfriend a kiss at day program.
He calls his house staff a bitch
because she found the pen.
But really
because he’s a sixty year-old man with no control
over his life.
That’s why there’s seltzer water
packed for him in his lunchbox.
He pours that shit down the drain.


Sarah Iler grew up in Virginia and Greenville, Illinois. She currently resides in Roanoke, Virginia and works as a Social Worker. Sarah spends her time outside of work pursuing the practice of writing. For as long as she can remember she has loved to express herself through stories and poems. She also enjoys reading, watching stand-up comedy, spending time outdoors with her dog Rumi, listening to On Being with Krista Tippett, and participating foosball tournaments. Sarah has had no previous publications, this is her first published work. 

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