Its not being broke and all bills paid.
Its visitor decidingto spend
90 minuteson phone with abusive
ex rather than be a good guest.
Its frozen yogurt place switching sign from "coming soon" to "open"
Its lementing wash left at laundry
because assistant didn't arrive
to receive retrieval instructions.
Its finally talking to your grandma 7 hours South.
Its vowing tomorrow
is absolute last chance
of wayward assistant.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
(in response to the song Redneck Crazy the lyrics of which I finally listened to today)
Afterward, they'll be one more angry young man
sitting in 6 by 8,
sent here by a woman; hardly a first for his clan.
Overwhelming love changed into unwarranted hate
if reasons he can’t discover,
despite hours of thought
since blue boy pulled him from behind
one of Dogwood trees he’d planted for his former lover.
Now his record will have another blot.
Wishing he’d thought before boozed induced plot came to mind.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
marks the beginning
of a new period of wellness
after a course of antibiotics
that turned me a version
of that comatose Disney Princess,
a duo of infections that lowered my oxygen level
and had me spewing mucus for two weeks,
and two non-rehabilitated broken bones.
I tell myself
exactly one more
day of ease until I return
to something called normality,
as I opt to remain horizontal