| 'Conversations with Him" mixed media by Cristina Querrer |
It goes like this: It goes everywhere and nowhere repackaged, repeated, returned It's a drunken sailor and the family he deserted for the sea It's the midlife crisis fun as he puts it in which I could take or leave But I had to sit in the corner and wait courteously daintily like Whistler's mother Whilst he returns to me It is a lady-like thing to do to sit here with my hands on my lap Or make sure I'm back in place when he's ready to come back even if I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro in the meanwhile How immature of me to whine to whimper lest I deserve another mental whipping Or else he will sell his boat and move to the next island and not come back to the mainland to me Transmission stops at his command reminding me of the helm I could never control admonishing me always So I become unsightly poems instead to remember these days I've become stranded stringing and dragging his uneven words along |
