Melting in the claustrophobic household heat,
dripping between sanity and the sickness
of a man salivating over scuffed knees.
Middle aged monotone drawls bounce
around the house enthusiastically
piercing my brain and blowing them in.
Sagged, wrinkling, shiny, plucked;
ravaged by sun and smoke and
the constant comparison to your dolly girl.
I push down my disgust and force affection,
with great effort, just to stay near her.
Her name bounces down my tongue,
silently, over and over until I can forget
you’re there; as you say:
“Oh, honey, take me away from here,
and her. The fading decor of my
fading life needs revamping;
as I blend in with the gaudy wallpaper.
She can hide behind heart shaped
glasses but I see the way she looks
at you. Her smooth innocence slips
through your fingers as she stands
4 foot ten inches in her slip on’s.
But, my love, if you just lie with me
then we can live the suburban dream.”
I’m scratching at my skin and inspecting
the bits of me under my nails; if the
definition of insanity is doing things
over and over and expecting different
results then I’ve fallen into insanity
for you, mon amour. The woman tries
to pull you away from me but you remain;
light of my life, fire of my loins and the
sequel to my young love. When she
died, I sought a replica and you are
her doppelganger. Come into me
love, struggle out of her clutches
and into my arms. I always imagine
you’d say:
“Take me away from the monotony
of not feeling special; I need to
stretch my lithe limbs and curl them
around your neck. Drive the car
down the highway, blow dust in
my face and stow me away in a
sleazy motel. I won’t ever get
bored of these games we play;
I don’t know the rules but, please,
show me. I’m already broken,
what damage could you do?”
I’m melting,
stagnating,
wanting,
waiting.
It was love at first sight,
at last sight,
at ever and ever sight.
Most of the universe
is made of taboos and
inevitability.
And the rest is rust and stardust.
As performed by Domestic
– Francesniff
Domestic Poetry 