My Navigator

His ego

bloated
like fish killed

in a chemical spill,
he is a P.M.S.

man.
His attitude,

a wretched menstrual cramp.
Midol

would help.
I laugh

too much; it
irritates him.

I braid my hair and
eat garlic,

talk to my
plants, and not to

him. I crave
his pipesmoke.

Still,
his hands tremble

on my hips.
His skin

beneath my palm
guides me through

space.

1988

---

Thoughts and Comments

Published under my maiden name: Barbara Muller

Impetus: Female Only
Special Issue
Implosion Press
Stow, OH
1990

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©2005-2009 Barbara L.M. Handley

Contact Barbara Handley at mailto:ardea@flipsideb.com

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