(no subject)
i think the crisis is mostly averted. i feel pretty decent.
i also wrote a poem--well, an attempt at one. i was going for a voice that was distinctively richard brautigan.
Housewife Army
Three hours into
the roasting of a turkey,
she realized she had
stuffed it with brass
buttons instead of bread crumbs.
There were tears. Another
shot of whiskey plus
clammy, unrelenting kitchen walls
sent her farther into prison.
The ceiling was unfaithfully
agreeing with the linoleum tile:
"You can't escape." She
sweated unfairly and
kicked the turkey, which
belched greenish smoke,
into the garbage pail.
He arrived home
two hours later, prompt
and expecting sympathy.
He tossed his coat on the couch.
"Honey!" he called out
in a voice like turpentine.
He lumbered into the kitchen.
He dropped his hat
in a pot of gravy.
There was a note on the stove,
being gently kissed by flames:
"I chose to feed fire
instead of you.
Please help yourself
to the turkey."