 | | 22/01/2015 03:22
Sur le blog My Kingdom for a Hat
housewife
The milkman’s wares were spoiled this morning
but I didn’t say anything because what can he do?
but my whole life is messengers, it seems -
the sticky webs of secretaries I’m put through just to reach Richard;
the doctor who phoned to say my father was dead.
Each of us only a medium,
a cog oiling itself against umpteen brothers.
With that slant, life seems less disappointing.
The girls who sassed me in high school are only pockets of meanness,
channels for some mighty practical joke.
The man at the bank who pats my behind
is mere...
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