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keeps him humble (poem #14)

In Los Angeles, 

they call drizzles, storms.

The storms,

 are usually people in line 

for a honeybaked ham during Easter.

But really, it’s all days and every Holiday.

People love being around each other, if only to ignore.

I get a smile now and again, usually at work

from married men carrying a newborn, while

mom is off trying to find something sexy to read.

Meanwhile, he tells me how much he’s enjoying

being a dad, as if I am in need of a father.

Does he see my deficiency?

I puff up, show my smile and chipped teeth—

shoulders heavy.

Hands outstretched, I’m unclenched,

knives in my laugh—

he feels this, laughs nervously, 

like rats do, 

his wife

a precious lonely tired thing I cradle in my arms of books.

I recommend all kinds, make him pay, she apologizes

and I say—

he loves you, right?

he agrees and folds away.

2 replies on “keeps him humble (poem #14)”

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