Not Exactly An Ordinary Day Poem by Tyler Lashbrook

It’s that repetitive answer you receive
when you ask your father how his day was.
“Just an ordinary day I suppose”

But how can today be an ordinary day?
Unless, of course, you wake up at the same exact time
as the thousands of days before.

Put on the same pair of jeans
you’ve worn now for every day of your ordinary life.
Eat the same stale breakfast at the same bland restaurant.

Tell that familiar story to the waitress
who happens to wait on your every single day.

Never will you have to fill your gas tank up
for it remains full, regardless of the miles you drive.

And yet the only thing changing
is that unrecognizable gray,
shining through your dying head of hair.