OUTRAGE CONTEST: My Mother Finally Tells Him Off

Sandra Inskeep-Fox

I need to tell you

before another day begins, IT REALLY

IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS,

but I’m planning to be

invisible after today.  Oh, I’ll

be here, and not so invisible that

you can’t see me.  Just

transparent enough

to walk through walls &

wisp along stairways

balancing gracefully

somewhere at dead center.  When you COME

HOME TO YOUR COUCH, when

I get home from work, I’ll

boil soft, rotting potatoes, scorch yellow

all your wrinkled shirts, press your work

pants bow-legged so they’ll fit right.

I’ll miss the spots on the vacuumed carpet,

I’ll leave pits in your cherry pie, and small

crumbs on the stick of butter, and

maybe even lipstick stains

Along the rim of my own cup.  WHEN

YOU LOOK UP, you’ll see nothing, but

I’ll know. AND IF YOU WANT TO

COMPLAIN ABOUT NOTHING, I’ll

have the best excuse for all these

mortal shots, for any miseries

I might inflict.  If anyone

ever investigates they’ll

see that since yesterday

I wasn’t even here.

 




Nonfiction
Poetry
Fiction