Friday Night K-nulcking Under III

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it is a (my) three day weekend
it is now
Saturday late morning

Friday night we went to Joe’s Pub,
you could look it up,
to hear marvelous stories and marvelous singing

then
full stop

homeward bound (apologies Paul),
we swap Lulus for p.j.’s,
and alliterative alternatives

after having bathed and showered
alternatively alternatingly debatingly
the meritocratic merits of bathing methodologies
and our respective but not respectable
technological techniques and sundry technicalities
are peaceable declared tied

we have not left the confines
of public globalist bedding since thenning,
and no plans for departeeing
not even for meals
or anythinging

(ok, barbecue chicken not cool to eat in bed)

multitasking multiplayering
music, poetry, Sunday NY Times,
action movies non-stop,
even napping,
anything
i want,
as I am the only worker bee
celebrating a workless Mondayee

periodically and often, I kiss the
knuckles on either of her hands

and we laugh at my joking insistence
for she vociferously denies,

most badly connives,
that she is
(with a pronounced hard K)
K-nulcking under
to my every demand
as she is equally guiltily
and capable of excellent excessive
leadership in the art of slumbering parteeying,
ergo all good

we still have Monday to resolve an unraging debating,
this unurgent knuckle biting questioning

who is the K-nulcker
and
who is the K-nulckee

~~~

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