2010
02.22
02.22
A finger on the map
pointed to another fantasy vacation
he can not afford
the kind of man that dreams
but doesn’t do is the kind of man I married
another lumpish year passed through me
debating divorce vs. new dishwasher
A slender girl stepped out of me
years ago, unzipped me from chin
to vagina, and tip-toed away
with my life. Like a thief
she watched over her shoulder
and faded into wallpaper someone else hung
He picks his teeth.
I wonder if the wife before me
tried to glue love upon these walls
or decorate her way out of hell?
No such flowers exist on earth
as these eggplant colored blooms
that cascade towards the stained carpet
of my cell. The repetition of fake-love drowned
by talking talking talking of nothing