Small Town Dying

on monday
we are hungover from
that weekend
when we lived

on tuesday
we wash our car
because god forbid
the car next door
shines harder

on wednesday
we mow the lawn
and throw the apples
back over the hedge

on thursday we pay
our taxes and fuck our wives
because this needs to happen
once a month

on friday we eat fish
and i think jesus
had something to do
with that

on
saturday
we die

Violated

he looks like
an army vet
like in one of those
american movies
we watched

pilot glasses
porn moustache
trucker cap

he rides a mobility
scooter
and his wife rides one
too
while his granddaughter
bounces up and down
a makeshift trolley

i wear a sleeveless shirt
and he looks at me
with that disgusting man face
some of them make
while his wife complains
about the weather

Lilith

you come into my house
and tell me what to feel
as you wipe your feet on
my furniture
and shit
on my rug

you come into my house
and call me names
like whore
medusa
and lilith

when it was HIM
who was married
when i met him

(on wednesdays we smash
the patriarchy)

you come into my house
and tell me
to take responsibility
for your feelings
like i don’t have plenty
of my own

you come into my house
and tell me i am too
much of everything

too angry
too loud
too negative
too proud

you tell me
that my dishes are dirty
and my unwashed knickers
offend you

the devil blinks first here
and still
you come into my house