suburban utopia

Your car keys tumble out of your hand and hit the frozen ground. "Shit," you say, "this is a perfect morning," as the eggs slip out of the Whole Foods bag to meet the keys. As you stand there, yolk splattered, I laugh. The suede on my rather expensive boots is, now, also marred by your clumsiness. You glare, pleading for help, as I get in my car and begin negotiating my way to the parking lot's exit. "Shit," I say, "this is a perfect morning."

(cross-posted on www.sixsentences.ning.com)

untitled

right now you are snoring.

ordinarily this would be endearing,

but i am exhausted

after chasing the children all day.

i did 

not choose to carry 

your genes into the next generation.

as much as i love you,

there should not be more

of you.

please, purchase those strips that lay across

your nose

and open your sinuses.

i am exhausted.

i love you.

but i need to sleep.