Fluffing Pillows

New poem on the worrisome moments of one's love-life, and infidelity...

Our JackRussel is dubbed

a name that denotes sexual prowess,

don't think we realized

how gay it seems - two men with

     their dog,

walking boulevards

lead by a cow-spotted "Mojo".

 

He has begun to minimize

being seen in public

with me and our "baby"...

 

Female friends and our butch-stout

trout-eating lesbians

     when we venture to visit now infrequently

ask about our "son"

(How big is he now? how much weight will he get?)

It's become irritably repetitive, I guess

that's why we cancel invites

     because even homosexuals gravitate toward

the light and of course

creature-comforts...

 

He has begun to work longer days

says he's in "meetings" most of the day

and lunch time calls become

a diet of short texts...

 

Our Mojo often barks at shadows

when nervous, hyperactivity overpowers,

then speeds

throughout our hollowing halls

     often slamming

against hardwood floor and mustard walls

as if he cannot help himself

fear of detachment? maybe... lashing out

we laugh at him at times

     or clap our commands irritation

with a loud "Mojo-HEEL!"

 

He claims to be tired more often

slothly as of late, arriving from work

yet can read endless emails in bed

with attachments of cyber-buddies' nudity

his now secretive with me...

 

We are almost detached

and i am displaying my smile with

fandango and furrow on my brow,

sinking sanguinely, sea-deep into our nights,

swaying, worried like a willow

but keeping busy - body

fluffing our pillows...

 

Reviews

[Kat Williams]

U know sometimes u find words..pieces that seem to sing out to you. Words that meet you more than in the middle, swirling around you..ready to come home..settle within you. This piece was one of those for me. Beautiful in its...greatness. Simple in its..realness. Honest in its..reality of living and loving..hopefully growing

[Collette]

ah, the uncertainty of a relationship...I often wondered what happens after the starlight fades into morning, and you've got dark circles under your eyes....and then I learned. Love is work...the little things, like fluffing pillows seem to make the difference. Or, at least that's what my mother taught me. In a way, I feel connected to the speaker. My relationship is so uncertain. Yet...I can also connect myself to both the lover and Mojo...wary, bored...frantic. Things sometimes slip when we hold them up on such a high plateau of what should be....

Anyway, I dig the duality of this piece. The back and forth personas are interesting. I like the 'nesting' motif...it kind of caps off the reasoning for such an antagonizing position. These lines made me laugh...whether or not you intended them to be funny:

Female friends and our butch-stout
trout-eating lesbians
when we venture to visit now infrequently
ask about our "son"


You've written a beautiful, personal piece that jumped out and linked to my own world. Hang in there, it gets better....I hope.

[darkgurl]

I like the style and form of writing here, can feel some emotion in this, well written.

[wizthom]

such enlightening write from the heart Thu the mind that reaches into the wise and ignorant soul,
that we all are just people living in a people world while searching for comfort any way we can .
mojo is just a happy dog doing what dogs do ,but your friend is confused as to what the world thinks ,
and bored with fake friends,,clever write in order for me to understand i had to read the right side ,dark letters first ,then the left which spoke of your friend boredom and confusion ,,yet when u read them together mojo shared the same aliments..wizthom