Monday, April 23, 2007

Ask your father

Ask your father:

when he is coming home,

if he is coming home,
for dinner.

Go on.

Ask your father for me, before he slips right out the door --
"Going out for a while" like he always does near the end
of the month when my market purse is nearly empty
and the freezer stores more air than meat.

Ask your father if he'll be back for dinner tonight --
I'm sick of his dead eyes answering for him,
of getting the same lazy responses every time:
the maybe's and maybe not's, and the I-don't-know's.

So, what did he say?

He won't be back till after dinner?
He'll be late and don't wait up?

That bastard,

I've already defrosted the chicken.

Sunday, April 8, 2007


Hive mentality

We are a hive; we live
in tall crowded towers
with many other
worker bees;
our queen is necessity.
We move in swarms
every morning to work,
every evening to shops
for supplies, then home
to rest, recharge
for the labors to come.
We do not question
life: we slave
for the good of the hive.