The Poetry Bus Dishes a Magpie
I decided to combine the two prompts again this week – I just couldn't resist because they immediately seemed to be quite related in my mind. Barbara from Barbara's Bleeuugh! Is driving the poetry bus this week & has told each of us to start our poems with the same phrase. I can't wait to see what all the other bus riders do with it! Here's my take.
I got down on my knees and smelled the new linoleum.
Its scent is un weary and miles away from the tension in the air.
I appreciate its blue & white pattern and unmarred surface briefly
before I sweep the shards into the bin, before I sink into that chair.
What are these shards, exactly? I peer into their jumble
as if to read the leaves or perhaps only to read your mind.
Blue & white, they match the floor and I wonder if I got them
all or if I left a jagged edge for an unsuspecting foot to find.
Is it cruel to wish it were your foot, the flinger of innocent dishware?
The linoleum isn't weary, but I am weary of this battle waged
in a pretty kitchen with heirloom china and heirloom tempers –
And no, don't smile at me – my fury will not be assuaged
by love and laughter and sorry and I'll get the vacuum.
Or maybe it will – I hate to vacuum and love watching the bent
arm of my lover cleaning the anger from the new linoleum,
now baptized with fire and impulse and the heat of the moment.