I wake to birds and stay pajama clad,
No buzzing clock my late repose destroys.
The children play so sweetly with their dad;
I wander, caffeine-bound, through scads of toys.
The laundry pile beckonsdarks, whites, reds,
Into the crock-pot dinner makes its way,
My hooters bounce, unhinder’d, bra-less, free,
As I shake out clean sheets to make the beds.
I sort detritus from the children’s play
And let them watch a bit too much TV.
No ballet class, nor preschool, nor play date
Demands I shower or leg hair remove.
Exploring facebook, I luxuriate,
I click each link, and “Like” if I approve.
The vacuum, wow, apparently still works.
Old projects, long on hold, see light of day.
I keep the Clorox wipes people in jobs
And cat hair tumbleweeds no longer lurk.
Eternal piles of crap are put away
Removing proof that we oft live like slobs.
It’s time for bubbles now, in back yard green.
My children’s laughter disallows ennui.
A mother hen, I spray them with sunscreen
And photograph them peeing on a tree.
My toenails once more gleam an unchipp’d red
And eyebrows too are pluck’d to tidy lines
It’s nice cold beer while on my face sun shines
With red box wine and TV before bed.
The morrow brings return to schedule hell,
But when I’ve space to breathe... ahh... all is well.
© Pam Desmond 2011
Want more poetry of the mundane? Check out my friend Amy’s Valentines to my Life, including “Haiku for Indoor Plumbing,” “Shakespearean Sonnet for Arlington Trash Pick-Up,” and “Prayer to Normal.”
Beautiful! Some choice lines in there: "I click each link, and “Like” if I approve."; "Eternal piles of crap are put away/Removing proof that we oft live like slobs."; "And photograph them peeing on a tree." Heeeeheeee! Iambic pentameter does so much for the mundane. And thanks for the shout-out--I am touched and honored!ReplyDelete
Love it! The line about bouncing hooters was my fave. Hysterical. :) Shake those sheets, baby!ReplyDelete
Hahaha, you guys are pretty much picking my favorite lines too. And Amy, you're very welcome. I miss your blog.ReplyDelete
You stuck your landing there --- wow, what an ending!ReplyDelete
"The morrow brings return to schedule hell,
But when I’ve space to breathe... ahh... all is well."
Holy crap, I'm cracking up but am uber impressed. You gots mad skillz! :)
Thanks! My mad skillz were honed over years of practice in huge college lecture halls with a fellow poetry geek (you know who you are!!) Our limericks about the professors were especially inspired. We passed notes back and forth, but always ALWAYS in structured poetic form. Because we were dorks. And also awesome.Delete