I bring her coffee, plus a custom made admixture of
kashi-go-lean and fruited loops,
and an almond biscotti with fresh berries,
to wake her up, @9:30AM,
since s-h-e, bad girl, been watching
some Jane Austen stuff (duh) till the AM of Three,
will dare to try to get away with sleeping
the holy moly entire Sunday -a!way;
quite a lot to carry, and sadly cursed with but two hands,*
so various prints from nose, and toes, fingered tips and and upon
an occasional, full on five on five, a free single hand print
on a mirrored bedroom door
behind which she hides
now when the light hits said door,
every smudge is crystalline clear,
and my OCDC insists I tsk tsk take
my sleeve to rub them out of existence
she loves this cleansing idiotick-oh-synchrow-nieceity o’ mine,
and smile lovingly while observing my back acleaning…
what an idiot, she thinks,
she forgets,
I see her every move,
because I am before a rear facing mirror
revealing her
espying me with loving for a man who cares enough
to rid the world of smudges, curmudgeons and peeps
who write poems way too excessively
so clean up this
poetry smudge in aisle five,
and we can both get a laugh n’ a giggle,
on her foible-a-bility
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 10:43 AM UTC
I bring her coffee, plus a custom made admixture of
kashi-go-lean and fruited loops,
and an almond biscotti with fresh berries,
to wake her up, @9:30AM,
since s-h-e, bad girl, been watching
some Jane Austen stuff (duh) till the AM of Three,
will dare to try to get away with sleeping
the holy moly entire Sunday -a!way;
quite a lot to carry, and sadly cursed with but two hands,*
so various prints from nose, and toes, fingered tips and and upon
an occasional, full on five on five, a free single hand print
on a mirrored bedroom door
behind which she hides
now when the light hits said door,
every smudge is crystalline clear,
and my OCDC insists I tsk tsk take
my sleeve to rub them out of existence
she loves this cleansing idiotick-oh-synchrow-nieceity o’ mine,
and smile lovingly while observing my back acleaning…
what an idiot, she thinks,
she forgets,
I see her every move,
because I am before a rear facing mirror
revealing her
espying me with loving for a man who cares enough
to rid the world of smudges, curmudgeons and peeps
who write poems way too excessively
so clean up this
poetry smudge in aisle five,
and we can both get a laugh n’ a giggle,
on her foible-a-bility
10:41am
still sunday
* tray you say, Hey! real men don’t believe in them
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