Details |
Kelly Pulley Poem
I drink tea on Tuesday only
after two.
Charity is done with the utmost sincerity on Mondays, Thursdays, and every other
Saturday.
Chidren?
Should be seen and never heard
interrupting their elders every word
these days.
Two children.
Dutiful doctor of a daughter.
Successful senator son.
Wall street husband
well planned years.
Board meetings, ballet class, soccer games
conference calls,
late night correspondences of letter and lace.
Entree's of solitary dinners.
Delicate.
Crystalware set upon the table for two
tasted by
one.
All is as it should be.
Dutiful, delightful daughter who heals her patents
well.
Know her by her cell and e mails.
A stylish, successful son.
Whom I
groomed, greased to pristine perfection.
Replaced
on his arm by a
shallow shiny vixen.
But.
All is
judicious
just
adequate
mediocre.
Following the rules of conduct
guarantees
contentment commitment.
Commitment contentment the rules
will bring
home, husband crystal ware.
I drink tea on Tuesday.
Charity is done with sincerity.
moments of melancholy despair?
Only on Thursday at ten,
after I drink
tea on Tuesday.
Copyright © Kelly Pulley | Year Posted 2005
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Details |
Kelly Pulley Poem
I had another lover over last night.
Loneliness.
Knocking on my door, even though he has his own key.
Beneath my silent covers he crawls.
Mummers moist against
my blue bruised sighs. I confess salty, soft, sins.
Embrace.
Under stale yellow sheets.
I crumble.
A pale version of light sleep.
Bad Habits?
Overstaying his welcome, snacking on the last hard-boiled egg in the fridge.
Stealing coins from the dryer for banana ice-cream and balloons.
Never arrives here with out tag along
Despair.
Who crashes on my sofa keeping vigil of infomercials until two.
The only way to rid the room of him, entice Faith over.
She breezes in
a Swedish lullaby smelling warm
of chocolate chip cookies.
Sulking in a corner
he stalks.
Slamming the door.
Faith helps me redecorate. Lights a pillar white candle with a bent match from
orange overalls.
I remember.
I remember he left
but,
he kept
his key.
Copyright © Kelly Pulley | Year Posted 2005
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