the game

she confronts you
on a sunday afternoon,
back from mass, hands
on her hips, still
wearing her white
shoes, and carrying
her tiny pink purse.
you're insensitive
to the needs
of others, she starts
with. you're callous
and cruel, you are not
a good person. she's
pointing now with the
church bulletin rolled
up into a tight baton.
no wonder bad things
are happening to you.
all you care about
is yourself, your money
and your time are all
yours. you have no need
for someone in your life.
no room for love, no
sense of family. it's
all about you, what
you need and want. why
do i bother sticking
around. why, she asks.
why. and you want to
answer these things,
address them all, but
instead you say, honey,
please, your blocking
the game, you're standing
in front of the t.v.,
move just a little to
the left, yeah, right
there. now what
were you saying?