Monday, October 19, 2020

what's wrong with you?

what are you doing
she asks
me as i clip my nails
on the front porch.
i look up at her and say.
i'm clipping my nails.
look at them.
uneven and jagged.
no, she says. i mean
what are you doing 
with your life?
what's wrong with you?
i've never seen you like
this before. it's almost
like you don't care about
anything anymore.
what are you talking about.
i'm taking care of my
nails
and tomorrow i have work.
you don't have a dog,
or even a plant in your
house. you don't watch
the news, you don't read
the paper. you don't give
a damn about what's going
on in the world these days.
ouch. see what you made
me do, i suck the blood
off the tip of my finger.
i hold up my finger to show
her the dot of blood bubbling out.
this is your fault, i tell her.
you're better than this, she says,
you have potential to do
some great things.
but you just have to get up
off your butt and get to work
on them.  you're not a spring
chicken anymore.
i say the word chicken, hmmm,
then let out a long sigh. yeah,
you're right. you're right.
you're always right.
what about pizza tonight?
half pepperoni, half mushrooms?

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