By paul wisham pawishman@earthlink.net
Date: 17 May 2000

fixing-me ?

     She woke me with a nail to the boards
     The floor needed repair.
      each time she fixed something around..
      its as though she were fixing a piece of me.
     The heart of our matter is that I'm the one
     who tends to break-first.
      Breakfast smelled of strong American mornings,
      the ones with mother before the whole school down.
     I eat slow, she eats fast. We're always quiet now.
     Except when she's fixing..., you know..stuff.
      She will never loosen that grip of which I've given up,
      and she's enough of a man that I'm not to shove it in my...
     Her day runs smooth and quick,she tells me everything in clip.
     I'll move my lip, a step or two.I'm always behind her.
      She knows how to lay me to sleep, as sound as a baby.
      At least I know how to break her heart.
     Tomorrow,it'll start over again as if the last day had never passed.
     She woke me with a slam of our door.