I Pay, and Leave
Have I hung up the laundry yet today and
did I run to the grocery store yet and cash the check
and remember to call the doctor to make an appointment
or am I doing something?
But the answer to that question can never be yes because
I am always doing something and have to fit these into
the wretched in between.
Did I remember to update the laptop and why does it say
searching and do I remember the password to
the credit card, the email account and why is the printer
not printing in color?
I’m not ungrateful, I swear, but there are days that just
test me a little more than others
that weigh a little heavier around the shoulders
and on the heart.
Are you going to eat that and didn’t you eat dinner already
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and why do you need a snack, didn’t you have a latte
that you shouldn’t have added sugar to earlier
and what did the numbers read today?
And I know immediately it is the scale in the bathroom
and not the lottery tickets they are talking about
but it is out of love and so I let it wash over me
as if the words don’t wound and barb as they rake
across the field of old scars reopened.
How do I use the scanner?
Do not forget to vacuum, dust the floor, why is the stovetop so oily
and will you get four chicken breasts out of the freezer,
because we may want them for dinner
and let me barge into your room before its light and
ask you to please make rice, bake scones, while berating you
for leaving a mug in the sink that you were too tired to wash
after twelve hours of reading and twenty-four hours of caring
Debt free, but not tax free
I pay, and leave.
