October Poem 10: Domestic Bliss

The Camera man loved his job creating

A visual narrative with models

And sets. The woman was aloof waiting

For her photograph. Nothing is in the

Moment like standing in front of a pot

On the boil wearing headphones watching

Criminal Minds on your cellphone bitching

At the man who took out the trash because

You were going to do it. The critique received in slashes

Of black as you would expect.  Or maybe

You wouldn’t unless you lived in this house.

This family promise is a book written

Among the slender trunks of pine. To find

A wanting hour to settle your mind.

















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