I remain here
In the eleventh day of my confinement
With small creatures demanding ever more snacks
Or asking to do cooking projects
Arguing over the game cube
Cursed, cursed game cube
Who thought to bring this thing into my peaceful house?
Santa. It was Santa, a bearded goblin who laughs at my misery.
The endless hours
I hear recounted tales
of Super Mario Sunshine
and Donkey Kong.
I cannot find play dates for my children
There is no quiet hour of doing laundry
I cannot drive the slippery road in my aged minivan
There is no walking the dogs on snowy roads
And for tomorrow
More snow is forecast.
1 comment:
Awesome.
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