By Gala
Date: 17 May 2000
Perfect You
The day dawned nicely pink,
and I ground coffee in that
damn who stole my brain mode---
emotionally nuetral
and then without warning
came the storm
down the stairs
blowing into my kitchen
with gale force winds
that rattled the dishes.
Where is...
Have you done...
I guess you haven't gotten around to...
and then the mother lode:
why is this place such a mess?
Other women manage...
Other women?
Pal---I'm the only one here.
The maid died.
We acquired a house
a child
two cats
three ferrets
messy hobbies
and killer schedules
that we both tame
for work time
book keeping
family time
us time
community service
friends
family obligations
and somehow that competant man
changed into the lord of this manor,
and I became a scullery drudge
who doesn't cut the mustard.
You say that I'm angry all the time,
that I snap at you,
that I don't talk to you
and I'm a crappy housekeeper besides.
I say that once
I was your goddess,
and you've overdrawn the asshole account.
You don't get to write a critical check
until you made good the old ones,
overdrafts and brought current
the snotty comments account.
Please deposit:
respect
appreciation
admiration
and if you think you can manage,
some undying love
and unbridled lust
would do nicely.
Until then Tex---
why don't you just blow yourself
into the next county...
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner