Still in bed on Saturday afternoon isn’t perfectly
normal, with guilt and the cat on the bedspread
and the Internet cascading like a pile of tin cans.
The house, of course, is never perfect, always
has to be done over. It’s hard to get plumbers
into bed with guilt and the cat piled up.
The best thing is to wear pantyhose or some pants
or just skip the short skirt completely, if I’m the Internet
cascading the house. The Halloween garlands
are hanging in the rain and it’s December,
which has to be done over pants, that is to say under
the skirt, so then I can pull the stockings up.
The house isn’t perfectly normal because the door
faces inward, not the street. And it’s cold, the heat’s
shut off by now. But the Internet piles up over the pants,
under the skirt; either way it’s hard, of course. I can always
just stay in bed with guilt and the cat, and take off
the short skirt. I can always use it as a cape.
Elizabeth Harlan-Ferlo‘s poetry has recently been published in Fourteen Hills and Tupelo Quarterly and is forthcoming in Talking Back and Looking Forward: Poetry and Prose for Social Justice in Education. Elizabeth is a teacher and facilitator who builds skills in justice and compassion. She lives in Portland, Oregon with a cat. Just one. Read more at elizabethharlanferlo.comand tweet back @poemsjustice.