again

he’s telling again
the same old vagina joke
i listen and keep quiet
once i kept trying
today i can’t even fake a smile
again, he fell asleep on the sofa
saliva drips on his undershirt
next to him a wrinkled paper
i don’t try
today i don’t even bother
to wake him up and tell him
it’s better if he goes to bed
lately he started picking in the garbage
looking for i don’t know what
brings home stuff he finds on the streets
once i used to argue
to shout don’t turn the place into a warehouse
today i give up
and without him noticing
throw it all out
© 1996. All Rights Reserved.
Zemach Zohar Wilson, New York City
 

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