Poetry by Morgan Boyer

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Perhaps I’ll become a worn-out accountant’s
overalls-wearing manic pixie dream girl, 
the one he meets at a quaint cafe or park 

I’ll white-girl dance in the autumn rainfall, 
only have classics like Austen or Bronte, 
have a rescue mutt with a pretentious name

perhaps I’ll be the sharp contrast to 
the Gucci-wearing gossiping girlfriend 
who wants a proposal, and that makes her evil

in the third act, the writer will bestow
a misunderstanding and my Jello-brain 
will make it last twenty insufferable minutes 

the lead will run past the Cinnabon and Pizza Hut
to catch me as I board a flight to Paris, 
shove a ring in my face and the crowd cheers

The credits roll before the impending divorce 

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Morgan Boyer is the author of The Serotonin Cradle (Finishing Line Press, 2018), If I Wasn’t Sacred (Alien Buddha Press, 2025) and a graduate of Carlow University. Boyer has been featured in Kallisto Gaia Press, Thirty West Publishing House, Oyez Review, Pennsylvania English, and Voices from the Attic. Boyer is a neurodivergent bisexual woman local to Pittsburgh, PA.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash