poem of the day 11.05.09

marital bliss

i tell her
my brother just called
he was in a fender bender
pulling out of a strip mall
is working nothing but
twelve-hour shifts at the store
works 2 a.m. to 4 p.m. tonight
the house he’s building
is all fucked up
it has the wrong cabinets in it
or some shit like that
but his wife wants
to close on the place anyway
so that they get it in
in time for the government rebate
threatens to divorce him
if he doesn’t sign on the place
and she cries on the phone
to my mother when she calls
who promptly calls my brother
who’s en route
to another best western
to sleep away another night
of his marital bliss alone
in a rented bed
and informs him that he’s
ruining his life and his marriage
to which he tells her, my mother,
to go and fuck herself
and he calls me from the hotel bar
half-crocked on vodka
threatening to beat up
the home contractor
and a table full of suits sitting
next to him and talking loudly.

“wow,” she says.

“i know,” i say.

“i always thought you’d be the first one
to tell your mother to go and fuck herself.”