(whatever)

I often think
the world wants
to take
whatever I get
away.
My best days
I stay at home,
tell no one
how good it is.
And still
my daughter
calls in crisis,
my sister
needs to discuss
a VCR on sale
during dinner,
unless 7:30a.m.
is better.
My husband
returns home
from work
with a headache
& an ugly
disposition,
the personality
of a 3 year old.
I don’t know
how they knew
to close in
til they had
stomped the joy
from me
like a grape.
Is it some
mystical bond,
my happiness
traveling through
the universe,
reaching them,
not in words
but at the
cellular level,
where something
says a balance
must be made right.

1/28/99