dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: patience

a watched pot never boils,

but the sharp sizzle
of stray drops
dancing designs on the burner
and the sun sparkles hurled
from the just-sloshed pot’s
wet metal gleam
to the top cabinet’s
fuzzy gray hair

crack open the senses,
spilling midnight refrigerator light
over feet, hands, and face


because I don’t have the patience
to grow my hair really long
because you made up lyrics
to an instrumental song
because we write our letters crooked
and doodle so straight
because they didn’t see you slip in
and marked us both late

When you’re old, you’re crazy

She confided.

I stood,

Fellow Walmart customer,

One foot back,

One item in hand.

Speedy checkout,

The one for that last ingredient

Remembered halfway through making dinner,

The get that child some cough medicine,

I can’t take it anymore,

The don’t get in my way I’ve been craving this food

Since last week’s commercial,

The no-nonsense,


Can you even call it shopping


Especially when you’re with your husband

And you can’t do anything right, she continued.

Cute. Old. Couple.

Three words about as relevant

As Speedy. Checkout. Line.

Paying with credit card and check,

She cleared her signature on accident,

Almost dropped her purse,

And looked in my direction

While fumbling for ID.

Sorry sweetie,

Have a nice day.

Sometimes you can’t help

But smile.