Poem of the Week

why am I always washing dishes when she calls?

she probably thinks I'm one of those people who never

leaves the house who watches TV all night and thinks

the stars of their favourite shows are real

I sling the tea towel over my shoulder

while she tells me her latest grand adventure

a six month tour across the United States

go-go dancing for an Elvis impersonator

the young slender Elvis of course

she's flying to San Francisco to learn the right Elvis moves

you have to know the right people she says

to be a go-go dancer for Elvis

the beautiful sister has always known the right people

free trips to everywhere invitations to movie premieres

I guess that means she's always

known all the moves too

what am I supposed to tell her

that I plan to hang out at Totem Lumber in my spare time

next week after I'm finished scraping all the

shit from my walls that was so deftly

hidden by the dainty rose wallpaper put up by the previous

owner that I was scared to death the first time I

pulled out the lawnmower and how I felt liked I'd scaled a

mountain when the grass ended up basically even

and I didn't electrocute myself

while she's being fitted for her black go-go boots

I'll be going through all the boxes I've been avoiding

photographs and wedding shots that never made it into

the album the birthday cards I didn't have time to

sort before leaving: happy birthday Honey thanks for seven

great years you make me so happy I love you

I say I'm fine ask about the tour make all those

encouraging envious noises I always make

with the beautiful sister I hang up the phone and

open a bottle of grenache I'm not going through

those fucking photographs tomorrow