poetry

to do, this weekend:

– meal plan for the forthcoming week, fail to execute plan

– shower

– clip finger nails

– manage mustache

– feed children at least once maybe twice

– bathe children at least once maybe twice

– remember that this is all temporary, remember that I hate when people say that, its not helpful or accurate, I mean what scale are we working with here, temporary relative to what

– buy food, try to cook food, hate food, hate cooking, do it anyways, selflessly

– remind myself that I am selfless, a mother, a selfless mother, a self-identified selfless mother, even better

– eat tortillas out of the fridge when no one is looking, maybe with mustard, maybe just plain

– pray for the energy to finish the dishes, scrubbing with hands and soap and waning strength, finish dishes, feel elated

– find bedroom, half-alive, step over unidentifiable things in the dark, crawl between probably dirty sheets, let thoughts drift silently and free across still air, out the window, down the sidewalk toward joggers and sleeping babies in strollers, couples out on first dates, hopeful, naive

– repeat tomorrow, except with more vigor, except with more patience, and less frozen food

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