"Man, you don't get it, do you?" she said
from the chaos of noon and the sofa-bed
and his eyes darted left
and his gaze shifted right
he stared down the microwave
as if it could chime and vend him stew
or whatever he thought a wife should do
(apparently coming home for lunch
had not been a good idea)

"Excuse me," she snapped, picking up the remote,
activating the TV with a jolt
and a frown corrugated her well-rested brow
"Now, look what you've gone and done...
You've made me late for my favorite show –
interrupted my psychic flow..."
the Perry Mason arpeggio
vibrated the still-drawn blinds
and the wine-dark eyes of Raymond Burr
blessed him with moral imprimatur:

"I thought I might take you out for lunch,
but I see that you're not in the mood.
So I'll just grab a burger and head on back..."
She jumped up so fast that her kneecaps cracked.
"How about Acapulco?" she smacked
"I've got coupons for 2.99!"

She flashed to the walk-in like Jeannie would
and five minutes flat she was looking GOOD,
grabbing the coupon and taking his arm
with the sway of a demi-mondaine;
she paused to wink one shadowed eye,
turned at the door, and, on the fly,
zapped Perry Mason a quick goodbye,
growling
"Baby,
you know what I like!"

05/09/2008

Posted on 05/10/2008
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