7.27.2009

White T-shirts as flags.

You're not around, you're out of town.
Who is it inside you now?

You never host, you'll never host
or you'll walk around a graveyard, ghost.

Is it decent of me to pace naked like this
if the blinds are drawn, the windows locked?

Sugar to wash the salt down for dinner.
The brownie mix will stay on the shelf.
There's no one around to grab me
a towel when I forget that there isn't one
in the bathroom mid-shower.

And this is what it was like to fold laundry.

I don't put any of them away
since I deserve to hear them laughing:
"Virginia, Virginia! Can't we go back there?"

But Baby, Baby, Baby
buy me time to load the mags.
Run around the yard if you've got to.
It'll all pay off in spades
if you
take it like a champ.

Did you have to spray my pillow with perfume
before you left?

You did, you did;
and I'm OK now, thanks.

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