She scrubbed a plate as if it were a man
Who’d called her fat, then walked out, whistling.
Soap bubbles floated up. Grabbing a pan,
She cursed the day she’d faced him, trembling
In her tight dress, and thrown her life away.
Joe was like chili caked on Farberware:
Hardened, determined to be in her way.
Marriage was finding that she didn’t care
Enough to leave. She had nowhere to go.
Smacking a bottle’s base, she watched the Joy
Drip stubbornly, like a repeated lie.
Picturing him in bed with his blonde toy,
She rinsed a knife she’d purchased long ago.
Her hopes were dirty dishes left to dry.