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Overkill

19 Feb


Furiously scrubbing the collar

as though it were a sinful woman

An overheated iron fretfully presses off creases

like they were indiscipline in a lost teenager

The eggs are fried for so long

like a grudge for unrequited love

The torn shirt is useless and now just a rag

These trousers that shine like a mirror can’t be worn

And only the dog has a stomach for hard eggs

 

He says hello

She says he’s the real deal and her search is over

He takes her for tea

where she asks if there is another woman

She meets his mum

and starts to measure up the wedding gown

He’s looking for some fun in a land of the hungry

He unknowingly paces himself

in the center of a stampede for nuptials

He took a stroll in what looked like a park

and ended up in a ripped shirt and one shoe

She’s heaving not knowing whether to laugh

or cry at this fool who doesn’t want love

 

Its’ been only ten minutes but she’s asked him once,

twice, too many times to buy fish

She said she needs the pipe fixed yesterday,

last night and also this morning

If he doesn’t build a house now she will lose out,

pass out and then move out

He’s dazed like a shopper in a noisy market

By her nagging that drips like a tap

He checks out to give room for her perfect home

BT


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2 Comments

Posted by on February 19, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , ,

2 responses to “Overkill

  1. Francina

    March 9, 2012 at 8:15 am

    this is a remarkable poem… sad and bittersweet, but also beautiful in its melancholy.

    Ciao, Francina

     
    • btwamuyu

      March 9, 2012 at 2:22 pm

      Thanks for the feedback. I’ve been concerned that the poems may be a bit heavy…They should get lighter when life feels like that!

       

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