nothing … not a thing … a thing of not
love for you is not for sale
or nothing for sale …
I have things to grasp
dishes to wash
wars to fight, domestic~home front~in flight;
I burnt the steaks again,
again, you say
you want to be “just friends“
with benefits but with no insurance policies
attached; if your head gets decapitated between my legs
then your wife gets nothing …
you`re such a shame, a sham
everything for you is no thank you, wham bam and nothing
`cause I`m a sucker for not a thing;
and I could go on all day
quote words that you`ve said, unsaid
so dreaded~ly about how I`m
a poetess for all your petty crimes, for all your bad times,
a curse for drive~by verses and hearses following nothing;
I wear flowers in my hair that you like to water
with your tears laced in fear of nothing or a thing of not;
don`t look at me, don`t talk to me, don`t stop
and gawk at me ~
just walk on by, walk on out
pretend I`m your mother … can you see yourself
kissing your mother? full on the mouth,
hands on her breasts? … it`s a detest, I know
so don`t go there and you will be alright …
today is Saturday
tomorrow will be Sunday
then every day after
will be every day of the week
I don’t know where you`re coming from
or where you`re going to?
All I have is what all I have left … nothing
except for the fire extinguisher
you bought for the troubles at your hands
taking up pantry space, and I`ll be goddamned,
we`ve ran out of fucking steak sauce!
