Honestly, Charles has worn me out.
I won't be sorry to find my bed.
He can whine more than fat little William.
With his misery of headaches and chills,
how did he survive Rio Negro
and Cape Horn? His father was deadset,
"No!" The sea looks shiftless on a resume.
Charles claims our house is ugly, brags
about 15 acres, quinces, plums, Spanish-chestnut
and old larch, nine miles from Knole Park.
Cook says I'm carrying a girl. We'll name her Anne.
Neighbors drop carcasses--dogs and cats--
in our foyer, and Charles cheers them on.
I dreamed Annie was a ruby, burning to the touch.
copyright Marilyn Kallet, 2008
Causes Marilyn Kallet Supports
Southern Poverty Law Center, US Holocaust Memorial Museum, ACLU, Amnesty International, Save Darfur.