[The twenty-third installment of the month-long poetry sequence that began on October 1st.]
"Bedroom Eyes"
Donald Stairs
"I'm s-s-sorry," Jessi tries to apologize, sniveling,
Her tears trailing down a cheek still flush with my handprint.
"I just...I-I couldn't..." she fumbles at explanation
But I shush her angrily as I stomp toward the window.
A mad jamboree is moving past, with that homely brute in front.
"Look," I command, pulling my wayward wife beside me,
"They've caught the monster, so you have nothing to worry about."
I glance over toward the camera hidden within the strategic clutter
Atop the dresser bureau that stretches parallel to our bed.
"Now go call up Gordon and entice his scrawny ass over here.
It's about time you got busy making me a new movie."
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