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Packed Up the Dog with My Underwear
Joe was manipulative and controlling
since the day we met, so I married him.
I wore huge earrings with globes
and planets revolving around them
like some kind of Alexander Calder
mobile. He hated them, and asshole
that I was took them off when I loved how
they balanced my head. Everything was ok
if I followed the rules, and fucked if I didn't.
Most important, don't bemoan any serious
issues, and stick to irrelevant bulllshit.
His parents used to scream at him when
he was a kid and the apple rolled into my lap.
Fucking ugly is how he looked,
when I strayed from my role of empty
headed fool and tried to identify
my self as separate from his half-eaten whole.
I stuck to the basics: movies on Saturday nights
and popcorn a must. No dinner because
we might have to engage in conversation.
Sex whether I wanted it or not. I said no but
he didn't care, got off and fell straight to sleep.
Never took off the V-neck T-shirt-very sexy.
One day I packed up the dog
with my underwear and tore out.
He probably turned over and grabbed my pillow.
Short Run on a Thread
I was attracted to his humor,
education, and artist's nonconformity.
We didn't make it, even through Edgar
was different, but not as much as
my mangled ego would like to think.
A winding staircase led to the bedroom,
passionate winters with the heat
on 60 and summers without air.
His house was an eclectic museum
and fashionably dark. It was like
when your grandparents had plastic
on the furniture and you wouldn't dare
dribble let along sit there. Pants were
folded with shoes lined up perfectly
before we had sex, and the bed made
promptly thereafter. It was more
than adequate but somewhat premeditated
in a neat, fold back the sheets 90 degree way.
Still, we had afternoons watching Buffy
and eating tofu in bed. Love was not the issue,
he adored me and was quite willing to put up
with my bullshit. But you know what they say
about timing, it sucks when two moons
don't align or one is erratic. That would be me
who needs to eat in the shadows. I screwed
him over. I booked and ran-felt hell bent guilty.
I knew the entanglement had a short run on a thread.
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