Wednesday, February 6, 2013

They Were In The Attic

They were in the attic.

She was a
Nasty little woman.
And so was her husband
Who fancied himself an ogre
As well as an ex-marine.

He was actually a timid fellow
Unpleasant, unhappy
And unsure
Of his ignorance.

She rode hard on him
With her wispy waist band,
Crooked fingers
And curving spine.

Her teeth bit
And tried to bite me:
Try as she could
She tried to bite me.

Some sympathetic fools
Would have concurred that
They were getting

And they were getting screwed by me
For I saw no reason
To restrain myself

Their contemptuous following,
Naughty listening, and evil pilfering
They engaged assuredly presuming that
I did not know it.

I pretended when they lied
I set down empty boxes beside
Whole cabinets of ancient manuscripts
And dump them into those boxes.

She said “I THREW that OUT”
But is was on the rear floor of her car.
She said “It is just so much rubbish”
But folded it up carefully.

“Her money” she said
“Had more meaning
When she counted it

Isn’t that an odd verbalization;
Outright and out of the blue,
When I came up from the basement
Carrying a basket full of old ceramic planters?

She clutched a pink depression glass
Cake plate
That she shook back and forth at me
When she said that.

Was she trying to taunt me?
They had been in the house
For ten hours
After I’d made my offer she said.

I could easily follow how
They had gone through everything
And taken what they wanted
And thought that I would not notice.

Missing things from cupboards, boxes
Shelves, trunks and table tops that
Lead like a pair of footprints
In the snow

To her shaking back and forth
Peripheral voyeurisms
And her husband’s commandeering utterances
Supposed to be obeyed or intimidate me

And slacken what was very obvious to me;
An out right effort to throw me out
Of the home in an effort to garner
It all themselves.

Foolish little toys
They were in the attic
When they took it upon themselves
To carry it all down.

I delighted to tell him that it
Wasn’t what I wanted
Over and over even though
He kept asking “Didn’t I want”

Those two chairs
Up there
That were obviously old.
“No” and he can carry those down too.

And he did.

1 comment:

  1. How many, former debutante, prissy, “nasty” woman types…
    With their “come along dear”, ex-something husbands…
    Want to sell their goods, and keep them too?

    How many, former all-star, aloof, “ogre” man types…
    With their “yes dear”, befitting wives…
    Want to sell their goods and keep them too?

    What they keep, is “rubbish”.