Amy
I slammed the rickety screen door behind me.
The butterknife flew through the wire mesh.
I’ll bet Amy pours barbituates
And the orange cat hunches in the windowsill.
The butterknife flew through the wire mesh.
My heart bumps like a frying pan dropped from my hand
And the orange cat hunches in the windowsill.
Our common quilt has come unraveled.
My heart bumps like a frying pan dropped from my hand
Unto the cold, chipped, linoleum floor.
Our common quilt has come unraveled
Like goat’s milk carelessly spilt
Unto the cold, chipped, linoleum floor.
Amy refuses to clean the messes I make,
Like goat’s milk carelessly spilt.
The barbed dandelions prick my feet.
Amy refuses to clean the messes I make.
She probably sulks in her bean bag and watches TV.
The barbed dandelions prick my feet
And the farther I walk, the harder it is to go home.
She probably sulks in her bean bag and watches TV.
She drinks her feelings like rancid mull wine
And the farther I walk, the harder it is to go home
Where you know the burnt grease hangs in the air.
She drinks her feelings like rancid mull wine.
I slammed the rickety screen door behind me
Where you know the burnt grease hangs in the air.
I’ll bet Amy counts barbituates.