On Wearing a Murse
I see the wary, self-satisfied leer as you approach
because I carry on my right shoulder
the expensive leather bag my wife gave me
for Christmas three years ago
when the doctor said “Don’t put stuff
in your hip pockets!”
Stuff, it seems, forces one’s spine to shift
In ways spines are not supposed to shift.
Your sneer tells me you think it so *****
for a man to carry a purse –
[deep inside you may wish you had one]
My sweet, loving, caring wife has been gone
now for two lonely years,
Only special memories I have remain, like when
I said, “Are you kidding? I can’t go around
carrying that thing over my shoulder!”
“I do,” she said.
She packed everything I could possibly ever need
wallet, checkbook, toothpicks,
fingernail clippers, pens and pencils
Proudly she walked beside me
while I learned
to carry my murse
with confidence.
So, when I see you sneer
I say to myself, “What’s it to you, jerk!”
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