Their bedroom lay in perfect symmetry, <br />A mythic stage. The double bed was flanked <br />on each side by a dresser, lamp and closet. <br />She'd spout her lines from her side, he from his. <br /> <br />Some trivial thing seemed always to begin it: <br />'How can you wear that jacket with those pants? ' — <br />Or, 'Can't you wear your hair all the way back? ' <br />(His mother wore her hair all the way back.) <br /> <br />Annoyance soon gave way to full-blown rage. <br />Backing toward her closet as she shouted, <br />She opened it one day, for ammunition, <br />And started hurling purses from the shelf. <br /> <br />Clear, hard-plastic scored a direct hit <br />Upon his forehead. Down he fell, and lay <br />Like a crashed airplane in a lonely field. <br />I stood above his body. Was he dead? <br />Soon, though, he woke, stood up, and went to work. <br /> <br />That night, we all had mom's pot roast for supper. <br />Not a word about the morning's 'little tiff'.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/greek-drama/
