My
Mother Sits Out on the Couch ~
Why do mothers lay,
Out, for us all,
To see as they,
Throw out their,
Arms and legs,
For us all to study?
Truly she’s a,
Beauty,
But, at certain times,
I would be inclined towards,
Ego-bashing.
How can my mother find,
Peace when she,
Spreads herself like a,
Butterfly,
For,
Is there no modesty here?
Even butterflies have them.
When I walk through,
The hallway this,
Unashamed butterfly,
Flaunts its toes at me-
I can never seem to escape!
The bug out of her cocoon,
Her blankets falling,
Around its form haphazardly.
Mother, I’m trying . . .
But you do look a sight.
~ * Cold Tea? * ~
{Oh, no, you have got
to be kidding}
My tea became cold,
Can you believe that?
It sat upon the ledge in,
The fridge,
Never steaming,
As it used to steam,
Without the heat,
That toasted my hands,
As I held the cup.
No,
It is transformed . . .
No, no,
It is no longer tea,
But some-kind of iced-up,
Atrocity,
That a stone age man,
Might have-
Described as,
Cool water.
No, no, no . . .
How could this happen?
My poor iced,
Cup of tea in the refrigerator-
Heart’s disaster!!
~
Toilet Problems ~
So I stood,
Changing,
Minding myself,
Happily,
Until, behind me gurgled,
Another lively,
Item.
It sounded like it,
Wanted to blow,
Its own nose,
As I was,
Carefully minding,
My own business-
I hadn’t e’en,
Sat upon it!
It got into my,
Face and,
Made that sad-
Noise-
The water went down-
Again!
I tried to hurry,
As outside my stall,
I heard people begin,
Muttering.
A kind woman,
Knocked and asked,
After my well-being,
And I squeaked out,
“No worries!”
But,
To defy my words,
The toilet blew,
Again,
I moaned.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
My face burned.
“Fine,” I moaned,
“perfectly fine.”
I walked out at last,
With my head held high,
As the toilet-
Burped out,
One last,
Good-bye.
I didn’t say good-bye,
And I ignored the crowd,
Truly dismayed.
