Sometimes, marriage is like this.
I was pouring my heart out
to him in the
kitchen when his
iPhone rang.
he answered it
without thinking.
he was:
- so secure in our deep, abiding love that he already knew all that mushy
stuff and found my verbal vulnerability redundant. or - he was preoccupied, as usual. or
- he wasn’t listening in the first place; I mean my lips moved but
the sound was on
mute.
choose one, please.
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Oh so accurate! But the reason I am not married is… Option 4 .. I thought you were done speaking!
This is great Alexis. I love your work
Hilarious. Truthful. I love this poem.
ARF says what I would like to – but i don.t have her gift.
So familiar I can hardly stand it! Thank you for your poem;
the company in this experience is comforting.
I love this poem! I love the content – I love the form.
“The sound was on mute”, sure can relate to that experience and so can most other women. You have a wonderful ability to put difficult experiences into lovely words.
Love to read your poems.
Did you say something? Gentle revenge in a short poem and published. Love that.
Alexis! Oh yeah. I am so there in your kitchen. And he’s there too. Answering his iPhone. Dern it. Thank you for making poetry. You are a master of the unexpected ouch. “… choose one, please.”
Men do not fully comprehend the depth of a woman’s concerns…
Sometimes we hear “bla bla” and the girl is “pouring out her heart.”
I remember on one SEINFELD episode Elain says to Jerry: “Just when I think you couldn’t possibly get any more shallow you manage to drain a little more out of the pool.”
Knee jerk training to answer calls plus trust that you’d be there to continue after. Alexis writes real, strong and tasty – the way she cooks. Can’t speak to her lovemaking but I would bet….
4. Deciding who to bet on in this weekend’s NFL playoffs.
A combination of the first and third:
He has heard this particular refrain 78 times over the past month, you’ve refused to listen to anything he’s had to say about it, you aren’t really interested in an adult conversation on the subject, you’ve unloaded on him constantly like he was an on-call therapist and not a human being with his own feelings, and he no longer has the capacity to absorb your one-sided conversation campaign anymore.
Speaking from past experience, anyway…..
and . . . around and around and
around we go . . . and we are . . .
off and we are on and we are off and
we are.
love this poem.
Numero trois s’il te plais.
4. He answered the phone because he thought it was the restaurant calling back to confirm reservations for the romantic dinner he had hoped to surprise you with …
…or it was the waiter calling, who found her panties under the table from last night’s romantic dinner…
Laughing here… and the headache I had from one too many IPA’s last night now gone. The power of Alexis. Geez! Love this poem!
D. He threw himself under the bus and gave you something concrete to focus on.
We have all lived this! Perfect.
I love this poem! I laugh out loud every time I read it. I now have a new phrase that I use with my husband “Excuse me, do you, perhaps, have me on mute?” Right on, Julie D!
Clearly was not erotic enough for the man. Mama said there’d be days like this…
Oooooo, yeah!
I pick number 3 mute is a good button in marriage somedays.
I love the topic, the form and the reminder about what that feels like.