Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Stuck
On TV
The pretty wives
Rush, ecstatic, to the door.
When their husbands arrive home from work.
But for me
The mere sound
Of his key in the latch
Causes my stomach to jerk.
Dinner
With insults
And punches and grins
The housework,
The diapers,
And kicks in the shins.
Always wrong,
Always weary,
And he always wins.
Leave?
Could I?
How?
The kids...
Where to go?
I don’t have a job.
It’s going to get better
Just as soon as...
(But it never does.)
Anyway he needs me.
Besides he won’t let me.
And God hates divorce.
Maybe he’ll die.
Maybe I will.
(1989)
The pretty wives
Rush, ecstatic, to the door.
When their husbands arrive home from work.
But for me
The mere sound
Of his key in the latch
Causes my stomach to jerk.
Dinner
With insults
And punches and grins
The housework,
The diapers,
And kicks in the shins.
Always wrong,
Always weary,
And he always wins.
Leave?
Could I?
How?
The kids...
Where to go?
I don’t have a job.
It’s going to get better
Just as soon as...
(But it never does.)
Anyway he needs me.
Besides he won’t let me.
And God hates divorce.
Maybe he’ll die.
Maybe I will.
(1989)
Comments:
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The year I wrote it. I'll add () so it;s not as confusilng. A lot of the poems in April archive are dated also.
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