clock ticking cat licking
itself on the windowsill,
dog gone with a Milk Bone,
underneath the porch,
Jordan munching, pizza crunching,
we like a crispy crust,
Levi counting, tension mounting,
while rounding off his numbers,
me griping, sitting here typing,
still much work to do,
screeching quaking washer breaking,
hope I can find the papers,
rub a dub they're in the tub,
hope they use the soap,
broke and choking can't quit smoking,
hate myself for that,
I'm beat I'm beat my poor feet,
getting too old for this,
tickle grin and tuck them in,
they look so sweet when they're sleeping,
treat treat brand new sheets,
320 thread count Egyptian cotton,
lie and sigh say goodnight,
whisper a little prayer,
fluff fluff prop pillows up,
curl up with a good book,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like the way the rhythm echoes the frenetic pace of everyday life. There is also a tenderness to this poem which makes it so appealing. Justine.