on otherwise grey days,
when my muse takes vacation &
i am in need of a poem
i like to check the walls of
fast food restaurant bathroom stalls,
where people leave love letters &
(sometimes i am tempted
to call, just to see if they
really are having a good time)
and some are quite witty,
their word choice quite...
(i was going to use the word
etched three inches to the
left of the toilet paper holder
but thought it might offend
your tender sensibility)
...relieving, but that is poetry,
unloading all the extra weight
you have been carrying,
most times only good enough
to flush, though just getting
it out, you can't help but sigh.
(just be sure to wash your hands
when you are done writing...
and perhaps once you finish reading.)
This poem is dedicated to Daniel, who commented on my post about being sick, asking "whats next a poem about using the bathroom." This one is just for you my friend.
On another note, T has gone back to work after 8 years of being home with the boys. I am proud and humbled to be married to one that is willing to sacrifice. Our schedules are all jacked up so I will try to be around as I can.