Two in a row for We Write Poems: “I do my laundry when…” One fun, one serious.

These are also at Writer’s Island and Poets United. Peace, Amy

Laundry (haiku)

I do my laundry
when I damned well feel like it.
I am self-employed.

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

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I Do

“I do.” My laundry:  When he needs his lucky shirt
for Dart Night with the guys.
And despite my long hours at work,
I end up cooking every meal.

He reclines his spine on the sofa
without a “thank you” for the chips and dip and beers I
serve his buddies while they sit and swear at the ref’s bad calls
and don’t call it a day until after 10 p.m.

“I do” sealed my fate until the swearing
was no longer aimed at the refs, but at me and
the bowl of dip just missed my head
falling in clinks and plops to the just-mopped floor.

Darts no long reserved for the board:
He’d found a new target.

It wasn’t always like this. In our early days,
kisses and promises of blissful years ahead.

Words I believed until my lips met
with his fist; until sunglasses became basic makeup.

“I do” sounds lovely at the altar, but so hollow when
promises melt and mingle with the salt and blood at my feet

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil