Life, a sigh
I sin best during days of obligation. I pray for the neighbor’s mesquite tree to come crashing down on the lawn mower that roars on hangover Sunday. My favorite coffee mug has become the pool for the paint brushes my daughter uses to draw sad faces on recycled robots. Life, a sigh. I mourn the death of an unknown man, handsome with fists the size of watermelons and lips of bronze. MY favorite t shirt has become a dust rag. The vacuum has a bad cough and will not come out this weekend. Stop faking a smile, your lips will stay that way.