May 2018
Edmund Conti
Edmundpoet@gmail.com
Edmundpoet@gmail.com
Coming Home
Dad has boarded the bus with a bottle
of beer and some potato chips. He settles
in and pulls out the cell phone. Meanwhile
in the kitchen back home, Mom has burnt
the macaroni and cheese and is considering,
among other things, Kraft. Lisa is crying
in the highchair and has swept all the Cheerios
to the floor. Oh, did I mention
the breakfast dishes, they haven’t
been washed yet. Timmy, where’s Timmy?
Yep, there he is, jumping up and down
in the laundry basket. And why is the cat...
wait, we don’t have a cat. Do we?
Millie is quietly doing her homework
at the kitchen table. Millie is quiet.
The cartoon she is watching on TV isn’t.
Ah, there’s the phone. Hello.
Millie, talk to your dad.
He’s on the bus.
Dad has boarded the bus with a bottle
of beer and some potato chips. He settles
in and pulls out the cell phone. Meanwhile
in the kitchen back home, Mom has burnt
the macaroni and cheese and is considering,
among other things, Kraft. Lisa is crying
in the highchair and has swept all the Cheerios
to the floor. Oh, did I mention
the breakfast dishes, they haven’t
been washed yet. Timmy, where’s Timmy?
Yep, there he is, jumping up and down
in the laundry basket. And why is the cat...
wait, we don’t have a cat. Do we?
Millie is quietly doing her homework
at the kitchen table. Millie is quiet.
The cartoon she is watching on TV isn’t.
Ah, there’s the phone. Hello.
Millie, talk to your dad.
He’s on the bus.
© 2018 Edmund Conti
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