MATINA L. STAMATAKIS
FIFTY BOREDOMS IN THE CLOSET
I’m bored of you today,
same as the video I threw in the closet
yesterday--or the ripped pair of pants I once
wore that were chic--now, as you can guess,
there they lay in the closet.
They will be replaced tomorrow
along with you and the annoying twiddle of
my insanely boring thumbs--always turned inward
rotating, rotating, rotating sick on a spit
like my lamb’s heart which once
pulsated for you.
Now I watch Jerry Springer in the evening,
and soon, he will follow you to the place
where all of my skeleton lovers hung themselves
out of indirectly inflicted boredom.
And even my ramble, insanity, desperation
finds itself in claustrophobic fits, where I most
expect it to be--eventually.
I have a bone to pick with you...
why do they always say that? How can
you pick a bone? And why would you?
It would be just as inane to say “ I have a corpse
to pick with you”, or “I have a nose to pick with you”...
It’s funny, but my Grandmother had a little adage
I think suits this case well:
“If you piss on the side of the road, you’ll get pinkeye”.
Imagine how disgusting that would be. I wouldn’t
come near you for a week or two--
surely that would save you some time.