Wait up for me, boy
and you best leave the light off for me
you don’t wanna see me comin’
through the dark
I’ll be pregnant with rage
and you’re due to be the daddy
I wanna see the whites of your eyes
sunny side up,
your liver paired wonderfully with onions
an’ I won’t cry a single tear
I’ll be pounding you into skirt steak
with the knife set we got on our wedding day
and wearing the cloven hoofed cherry red stilettos
I bought on your credit
to match the splatters
every speck, atonement
for every drop of chardonnay, scotch and keystone
that replaced your vows
and how
I quit scoring my skin
to quiet your heart
and now mine screams
to tear yours through your ribs beating
to be julienned
and marinated in the cabernet reduction
it deserves
and for dessert,
your coque eclair
sans hair
on our formal china set
in the kitchen
with a candlestick