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!”