Here With The Birds
Today I am here -in Wisconsin. Daughter is with family in Michigan
I sit and listen to the robins in their nest. The babies get so excited
when their mom and dad comes back to the nest to puke up worms
into their ugly little beaks.
Husband is at work. I’m making angel food cake
My house smells sweet. It smells like my grandma’s house
I plan on making a salad. I bought green leafy things.
My house is clean. I am going to have too much angel food cake
Can I freeze it?
The woman under my kitchen sink tells me to drink a beer or a glass of scotch
She says, “What the hell do you expect – no one cares how good you cook. Mop bitch.”
And laugh she does with her whole body until she coughs and sighs and sighs some more.
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The poem is a cocktail of sweet and sour, beautiful and ugly, touching and funny… a drink I’d order again.
Mop bitch. HA.
thank you…
I like your style it incorporates uncensored dialogue with steams of poetic thought, not something you read everyday. It’s more genuine than some of the more abstract or too deep into metaphor brand. Thanks for sharing.