Poems. By April Salzano.
Sims 3: Ambitions
My ten-year-old son says to me:
I lost all my money somehow
either I paid my taxes or I lost my job
and you need money to eat
and have plumbing
so when your hunger gets really low -
theres a bar and it goes down to show
how low it is -
you starve to death.
So I make funny ways to die,
knowing I am going to.
Ok, so before I die, I get in the shower
or I get in bed with my wife
or someone elses wife, thats even better.
Or I lie down with my daughter, or
someone elses, or
wet myself and go to a friends
house and die in his bed
while hes watching tv.
Or I go to work to die.
I am a teacher so thats funny, dying
right in front of your students,
or in a random persons shower.
Or while driving or having sex or fishing.
Just fall in the lake. You come back
to life, you just have nothing
when you do.
gave me a hive the size
of a golf ball on my forehead so
I drew a face on it with eyeliner
and called it quits. I also
have heartburn and a lump
in my throat a Vicodin hangover
a rebound headache and more
regret than I thought I could contain.
I was recovering
from a crisis the day before
that made me run until
I was out of fluid
in my joints so I smoked one
which made me sleep
in I was late for work
before I remembered that I dont
anymore. They fired my sorry ass
for being melodramatic on the job.
Last night my husband dreamed I broke
up with him for a poem. He said it wasnt
the least bit funny. It was
realistic, line breaks
and stanzas scattered around
the house as evidence. Dont think
it didnt hurt because it did, you
wanting a poem more than me.
You stopped cooking dinner,
the house was a disaster.
All you cared about was this
poem. By this point hes crying,
and I am still trying to get a visual
of a love affair with a poem.
How did we ?
My husband was dead
serious here. I tried to be
sympathetic, but the whole idea
was, well, poetic.
Wed have a couple haikus,
build a small press in the woods,
and live happily ever after, anthologized
on opposing pages.
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