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 -
there’s 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 else’s wife, that’s even better.
Or I lie down with my daughter, or
someone else’s, or
wet myself and go to a friend’s
house and die in his bed
while he’s watching tv.
Or I go to work to die.
I am a teacher so that’s funny, dying
right in front of your students,
or in a random person’s 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.
Yesterday’s Fiasco
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 don’t
anymore. They fired my sorry ass
for being melodramatic on the job.
Love Affair
Last night my husband dreamed I broke
up with him for a poem. He said it wasn’t
the least bit funny. It was
realistic, line breaks
and stanzas scattered around
the house as evidence. Don’t think
it didn’t 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 he’s 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.
We’d have a couple haikus,
build a small press in the woods,
and live happily ever after, anthologized
on opposing pages.
