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i gladly move
mountains
until i’m told
a mountain
needs moving
and that it’s
up to me
to make it so

i happily wash
dishes and floors
and fold the laundry,
even scrub
those places
behind the toilet
all fear to touch
even with gloves

and i cook
and whittle,
mow the lawn
and tend the beds,
even make
our bed
and dust
and everything

until it’s expected
of me to do it

and then i grouse
and bitch,
go scrounging
for change to buy
a bottle
so i’m good and drunk
when you get home

so leave me be,
woman,
do your thing
and i’ll do mine
and all
will be
fine

you’ll see

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