Friday, January 9, 2009


A poem by MangyCat

bubbles fill you.
Steam, hot and molten, with
candlelight. I reach for the lamp.

Sweet bathtub, love,
how you invite me in.
Your warmth, so beguiling and pure,
tempts my weary limbs and weary patience.

Your whispered promise entrances.
I venture ever toward your siren’s psalm.
Then memory serves me ugly, meaty portions.
Hot turns tepid, turns cold, and spheres will pop.
Your range, so unaccommodating.

Shallow waters beget lumpy islands,
beget landscapes of cold, wet skin.
Never deep enough, you
vile standard size.

Shudder to think, one hour past,
my kids screamed, “Poopy water!”
All magic’s gone.
I sigh.