He lies next to me
and wants to hear poetry
about his anatomy
which takes the best of me
"where are we going?"
are we headed for catastrophe


the laundry needs folding
and dinner still hasnt been made
he lies naked while I rub aloe vera
on his sunburns and the puppy whines
from the kitchen, and my head aches
and i hear him shredding something
but I gotta get this poem down
before I can give anymore soul
to any soul asking.
so he places some clothes
on his pink hot body
and folds a few shirts
from the weekend laundry
computer keys click
and the words start pouring
and I forget about the world
as I remember who I am again.