Fits of Jealousy
Every evening I come home on time,
I hug you and say, " How was your day? "
No smile, no affection, no greeting from you: you seem the image of clay,
but a resentful feeling, fed by suspicion, is ready to explode inside!
Staring at me with doubt, you'll soon turn into a freak;
I go to the kitchen to get a beer to wash the poison down...
when I get back, my cell phone is gone!
There you are! Curved up into the love seat
checking out all my messages and a particular picture....
angrily you say, " Who's that silly blonde? Your new lover? "
I fight back by saying, " Darling, have you touched another drink?
What is the meaning of these fits of jealousy? "
And vicious than a tiger showing her sharp teeth,
you get up to start a demoniac fight revving up your stupidity.
Anything that lies on the coffee table you throw at me:
a pack of cigarettes, even an ashtray that misses me by an inch,
by luck, I duck feeling like a grindstone turned by a winch...
I yell, " Damn you and your jealousy! " I shut the door and flee.
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