My personal hell
has a dog who won’t stop barking.
A boss who listens closely. Makeup
tutorials like “10 Looks for Zoom Calls.”
A lady buys my washing machine.
She pays me twice. She types so bad
I think she might be a bot. She shows
up unannounced and tells me Covid
is just like the flu. Refuses to wear a mask.
When I say I have immune issues, she says, “Me too.”
She wants a refund. On the phone with the bank
for 40 minutes. Did I mention the dog. Did I
mention she’s a Trumpist. Did I mention
she says cutting her a check for the refund
is fine and then it’s not and she wants cash.
My husband is a thundercloud today.
I’m dynamite. I’m on fire. I’m in a think tank
all week, meetings 8 hours a day. All this whining
and I haven’t mentioned, tonight, we’ve got guests coming.
I promised not to stress clean. I lied.
7 thoughts on "My personal hell"
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I love how your husband turns into a thundercloud and you turn into lit dynamite.
For what it’s worth, because I imagine this isn’t all fiction, I would be stress cleaning too.
I really enjoyed how live this poem was, and the images were so good.
Great snapshot of your day.
Thank you for this feedback! I appreciate it.
I love the short stop-and-go rhythm. I love the way you talk to the reader. I love the dog coming in and out of the poem.
Your personal hell is fun to read…