I hate the way you eat your mashed potatoes. It sets my teeth on edge when I hear your teeth hit and then scrape the spoon as you pull it back out of your mouth. Who the hell eats mashed potatoes with a spoon? You have to put your fork down just to eat your fucking mashed potatoes. By God, one of these days I’m going to pick up your steak knife and end your life with it.
“Penny for your thoughts, Darling?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about… work.”
Yeah. How much work it would take to stab you.
I’m compelled to do things just to piss you off. Like leave the toilet seat up after I’ve told you a thousand times to put it down, or chop off your balls because I caught you cheating on me. And I would. If it wasn’t for all my own affairs.
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after a long, hard, hot day at the office
i just want to lose my briefcase and
flip
off my shoes
p
e
e
l
off my dress
and then…
But you’re home. And you’re watching tv with a beer
The condensation drip
ping
from the edge of your bottle onto your white boxers as you
tip
it in my direction in a gesture of negligent cheers
there was a day, long a go when it was you coming home
all wet from the
rain
and i, lounging with my white wine on the couch in your boxers and nothing
else
your umbrella drip drip dripping on the floor unheeded because…
there are better things to do
always
Busy things to do and not enough drip
ping
After a long,
hard,
hot
day.
Linda G. Hill 