At About Six
She pretends to want to knowHow all my empty hours passed.
“Like kidney stones,” I say and laugh.
She isn't in the mood for jokes.
She drops her jacket on the chair,
And marches off to change her clothes.
She barks, but doesn't turn her head.
“You'd better find a job.”
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2011-11-23 at 22:17
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