Housewives don’t need househusbands around.
They want earners. Someone with balls.
They aren’t interested in eternity. Or next fall.
They’re worried about this afternoon’s trip to the market.
The sting of it all. The constant subtracting.
The buffer that has all but disappeared.
Nibbling the cantaloupe flesh all the way to the rind.
Steeping the tea bags for a second time.
It was just supposed to be a transition period.
But it has lasted months, nearly a year.
It’s not like she’s ignorant of unity.
But she spurns him. He can keep his drawers on.
This has been too much for worse, and not for better.
She’s not sure her fidelity can withstand this economy.
/ / /
This poem was written in response to Wordle 64 at The Sunday Whirl. I also incorporated buffer, transition, and unity from Three Word Wednesday.
I’m about to leave California for two weeks to visit Ohio and Baltimore. I’m uncertain how much I’ll be online. I will have my laptop with me and my iPhone, but I make no promises about posting while I’m on vacation. I’ll be writing, of course, but may not be posting until I return. I hope all you wonderful people are having a good summer. Thanks for visiting my blog; I truly appreciate it.
Richard