A Mess of Pottage

The second time pissing in as many weeks
She sought to remove all traces of the poetry
from our prenups
Namely, a sense of homesickness
welcoming winter like a missionary at the door
I spent one long year riding the backbench
connected to all the others who heard the very same chimes
of worldbuilding and fabulism
but who couldn’t make out the meaning of the words
or whom the vector might be
This is what you get
sleeping through New Year’s on your sectional
My subversion was to lay atop the coverlet and kick my little feet
It put me in a delightful mood