My X’s late night /
whiny texts came through, so I/
know that my phone works.

The silence deafens./
You do this to me a lot,/
FYI. Goodbye.

I want to talk to/
you, deep, without disturbing /
your deep beauty sleep.

A friend was professionally dissed by a friend of hers, who then asked if they could “try again”. She said the phrase in retort was something stronger than “Marshmallow Head”, but I liked THAT cut … so I IMprov’d what she could have said:
If I put your marshmallow head
in the heat of my creativity
and inspiration
and activity,
you will burst into flames
until you are a melting
g
o
b
of blackened,
charcoaled,
g
o
o.
And that will just make a mess.

I am just a guy./
Still, there’s nothing more vital/
than you saying “Hi”.

Having visitors/
stopped her from dancing alone/
in the nude. Pity.

Needing estrogen,/
it was comforting to sleep/
in her bed, alone.

I dreamed of taking/
your hand by the lakeshore, then/
taking your picture.

She was late for her/
dinner I’d made. Just as well./
She didn’t like it.

When I was young, my Grandma Bertha took the last piece of cherry pie, split it in half, and gave a piece to my sister and a piece to me. I examined the two pieces and loudly objected. “She has a bigger piece!”
Grandma quickly took my piece, said something like “I’m sorry you don’t like yours”, and ate it herself. I got nothing…except a lesson.

When I complain, I/
don’t get what i want. Truth? I/
get nothing at all.