Adventures In Assembly

Put number 9 in right slot A
Slide left and turn around
But now the thing is backwards, loose
And somehow upside down

My husband’s cursed the parts, China
The less than fit construction
But still insists he doesn’t need
To look at the instructions

Now veins pop from his forehead an
alarming shade of blue
Since I don’t seem to know what thingee
He’s referring to

And righty tighty lefty loosey
For those who are deft
But somehow in there left was right
And then right became left

And then there is a crank, a turn and
One dubious crack
And there my husband stands somehow
With both fingers in tact

He gloats he grins he boasts to me
“I’d say it’s looking fine!”
Though on the floor lies parts 15
11 and A9

I smile blankly as he shifts
The table into place
And never tell him it was meant
To have been a bookcase.

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For A Good Time Call

One day when Mother Nature summoned
Johnny was in the stall
When he saw words and numbers saying
For a good time call

And so he called the number and
Through giggles did request
If he might get some action and
So oddly she said yes

And so he went to meet her but
Imagine his surprise
She looked more like an angel he
Could not believe his eyes

And there would be romance that day
But of the sweetest kind
And Johnny loved her humor too
Her beauty and her mind

And in the years their love did grow
They made themselves a life
Which soon erased all memories
Of how he met his wife

Through thick and thin sickness and health
Poor Johnny never knew
That that was how Nick, Ned and Hal
Had met his dear wife too.

The Unfortunate Circumstances of A Rock N’ Roll Supermom

Dear reader please prepare this blog might be a bit upsetting
And I’m sure it isn’t quite at all what you’re expecting
But before I say the news, both tragic and exciting
I want to warn you it’s Marissa’s husband that is writing

I tell you of this incident that sadly did occur
(In a poetic verse that seems, suspiciously like hers)
Unfortunately we know very little at this time
But it seems my wife has gone off and killed a mime

One minute he was building an invisible enclosure
Next thing you know it’s black and white and it’s red all over
I’m sure she’ll be embarrassed, that dear woman of refinement
But now she is locked up in solitary confinement

Muttering his tug of war wasn’t very good
And how could he be eating when their wasn’t any food
An obvious result of this unfortunate new caper
They’ve deemed it dangerous that she be near a pen and paper

And until the day that her sentence be determined
I fear that her future as a blogger is uncertain
And if an urge to comment here may be your inclination
Be warned you may look dubious in the investigation

I suggest you clear your history and to do so posthaste
And remember that a mime is a terrible thing to waste.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fool-me-once/”>Fool Me Once</a>

The S**t Eating Grin

Whenever I come home from work,
After a hard day’s done,
My husband’s the barometer,
For what is going on.

But if depressed or lamenting,
Over some random thing,
Nothing could be worse than the curse,
Of the shit eating grin.

Which is exactly what he wears,
When I come home today,
I fear as he blocks the bedroom door,
And stands in my way.

My mind thinks of the options,
My ears are blowing smoke,
As I consider a dreadful mess,
A valuable that he broke.

Do the children lie there bleeding?
Are there dog hairs on the sheets?
Is there a porn in the VCR,
That’s playing on repeat?

But time wears on and by some,
strange prompt he moves away,
I open the door to gaze upon,
What his nervousness betrayed.

But nothing could prepare me,
For what waits for me instead,
As I see the open window,
And the unmade bed.

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Begrudged

Like my dear old grandmother
I find it difficult to budge,
From a negative viewpoint
created by a grudge.

But I can’t say my poor husband
didn’t try to warn me,
Knowing I’d soon see the object
of my hostility.

As he advised me to try
to be the bigger person,
When seeing she whose actions
caused me the aversion.

I smiled when I saw her
and tried to rise above,
But when alone with her in the bathroom, well,
who’d’ve thought there’d be so much blood?

Now I sit confined in these 4 walls
trying to seem repentant,
To this woman for whom I still harbor
quite a deep resentment.

For though they say I gave her
a bit more than she deserved,
Sometimes I still wonder
how she could have had the nerve.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/memoir-madness/

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