a circular belt
looping around till
the days melt,
into chirping crickets

and hooting owls.
And through the thickets
the coyote growls.
The pitter-patter

of the rain.
The chipmunks scatter.
And I strain,
in this position

with no spot of commission.
My pen is dripping wet.
My paper full
of epithet.

Running on dregs
as me.
Drinking red grapes
under the old oak tree.

Life is a painted blur,
of plotted events,
mislaid detours
and accidents.

as a wine stain in my carpet,
let go of his mock and argot. Wipe
the spill on my sofa of the cheese
and fig and mimosa. Plunge the

lace dress into the washer
that turned bright white
into mangy yellow. Sift the grit
out of that fellow. Wash him

out with the tide, so this pain
in me can subside. He's a flake,
a speck of dandruff. Shampoo
him out of my hair, this big, old

hairy grizzly bear! Wash this ****
from around my tub. Scrub it with
the bleach and gloves. "Shout" the ring
circling my collar. Absolve myself of this squalor!

dank and dark. You are stellar,
the light the spark. He's
a dirt basement, no floors
or walls. Just an encasement,

a hole to crawl. He's a vault,
a crypt. A musty cave equipped
with rickety stairs. And hairy spiders
that tarry. A spot for rats that carry

disease. A tight squeeze. Cobwebs
fill the corners, a home for waifs
and foreigners. You're the villa,
the courtyard and grape vines. He's

the pit, the shaft, the mine. You see,
he’s the bottom, below the earth. Slimy
mold of girth. You're the roof, the top.
From you to him is a long drop.

falling from the skies
driving Lamborghinis
biting women's thighs
drinking ***** martinis
scoffing mincemeat pies

Oinking and grunting
rolling in the mud
look at them hunting
thinking they are studs

Beer belly’s hanging
over their blue jeans
wishing they were banging
like they did as teens

Hairless mole rats
out mowing their lawn
covering their heads in hats
stifling a yawn

Ogling women
younger than their daughter
squeezing them as persimmon
early morning potters

Wiry hair growing
out of their ears and nose
scratching their crotch and crowing
They're all pigs and it shows!

as dregs of coffee
scratching the bottom of my mug.
Like the sediments of wine
in my crystal jug.

Like the crimson leaves tugging
from the trees in autumn.
As dust dancing on my bamboo ceiling fan.
And as I turn it on it lands on the four posted bed,
dirtying my green and brown striped spread.

Like a pool of sweet caramel sauce
around the flan I baked.
Like the foundation sinking
my brick ranch house.

As my friend when she chose
her driftwood rogue spouse.
Or the lawsuit with my lawyer.
And not my wages with my employer.

I'll not settle,
just to say yes.
I'll take mine.
Not a thing less.

him as a striped blue and
yellow tie I'd take off as an airplane
and fly. Not wrapped tightly around his
starched collar. Yeehaw I'd holler! And

just as a sailor’s knot I'd unloop him
on the spot. I'd unhitch him
as a trailer on the highway in
the pouring rain. Bleach him out

as a port wine stain. If he was
only a computer I'd clear the memory of
all past, deleting years from first
to last. And burn the pages of

this leather book. So, not to take a look
again. Fire up the ink in my wooden
fountain pen and paper it with a wedge
of lime and yen.

she'd stand planted there
to plunge into
as his striped upholstered chair

to kick his feet up
like he does on the ottoman
and turn to gelatin
as collagen

clear as the fuzzy slippers
next to him on the hardwood floor
lying in the darkness
as the magazine in his bedroom drawer

the printed colored cover
pulled from her perch
slender and thin-skinned
like that of a birch

He thought
tomorrow roll in
like a cool ocean breeze
not leave him holding his head
falling to his knees