4 Poems Kim Gek Lin Short


Wifey Pooh's Narrow Escape


Wifey Pooh did essayer.
A narrow escape she did take of Sunday dinner
sleepover, and the six o'clock morning
cab ride home in last night's clothes.

There is a breakfast hesitating on the table
with the night's most meager apology for a poem.
There is a bubble in the batter
shiny as a Los Angeles midnight pool.

A squat man, a swarthy meatloaf:
also narrow escapes. She counted three in all.
There is a basket of laundry needs something.
A gleaming tub to fill. A bite mark

silver as a shooting star, and spreading.
The kitchen timer, an enemy.
The unmade bed. Two sticky glasses
in the Dirty Bowl Hole.

But what's this? Heaven's recompense
for a belly too stretched. Ontological
sky full of black travel. Here is the skillet
from last night's supper. Here the seared stars.

Just in time for bed she is the fastest runner.
A fire lit Wyf's feet. A fire lit Pooh's smile
when meet just before the kiss goodnight,
their backs polite and stacked like shadows.



Wifey Pooh Goes Grocery Shopping


Essayer did Wyf Pooh.
Unattractive dinner, a too loose roux.
Four hours before pajamas
is all she had to do.
But fish like daggers in the oily stew.

Earlier at the market
to a sprite in pants too lewd.
I would not if you paid me,
I would not if we screwed.

Continuing in this manner,
forgetting the shallots too,
I would not if you gave me
a four-karat I-do.

In the parking lot of the market,
jealous, infernal, shrewd,
she's permitted one substitution:
lewd pants for lewd brew.

Who hath got your halo?
The tortured car seat missing too.

Wyfs, thinks Pooh, do not feel
what I do.



Wifey Pooh Gets Scared


Scared Wyf Pooh in a secret gray shake.
Which Other put her gray
she will not to It give a ring of syllabic truth.

Trying growing less gray
hearing inside how all parents
would hear the inside of Her through These

Pooh put the bad parts back and breathed.
Wfys do this all the time, Pooh reasoned,
with no way to stop her

the soft nurse gives Pooh a hard stab.
The babee! But there is no one to stop her either
from entering the shining room real and scared too.



Wyf's Daily Affirmations to Pooh


Monday

Pooh don't worry.
Wyf woke early.
Already big hurry.
Whizzed soy and bilberry.


Tuesday

Pooh don't panic.
Take time to tantric.
Dad's with his sidekick.
Mom's weepy lovesick.
Baby's bent from colic.
Husband's got his own shtick.


Wednesday

Pooh don't get mad.
Our life ain't so sad.
Vacation's two hebdomads.
He's back from Marienbad.
Mom's down a kilorad.
Baby's an Olympiad.


Thursday

Husband's pocas palabras.
Pooh's got insomnia.
Baby won't take formula.
It's Mom's fourth faux-pas.
Daddy's at the skinema.
Baby's joining Mensa.


Friday

Pooh don't postpone.
Baby's your touchstone.
It's just your hormones.
Take your progesterone.


Saturday

Pooh get sleepy.
Time for doxology.
Husband's got his fantasy.
Wyf 's got an enemy.
Baby's a commodity.
Dad's fourth cupidity.


Sunday

Pooh time for bed.
Leave these things unsaid:
Dad's a selfish pinhead.
Mom's hooked on bed-meds.
Baby's a thoroughbred.
Wyf is too limited.