I mistook your faux mustache for a caterpillar, You can’t blame me; you are not so debonair, I gave it to the cat to torture or play with, And went off to sort the mail. I could hear you wheeze and cough In the kitchen, searching under my magazines for your inhaler, I am waiting for the air to clear for your eyes to note, The envelope balancing on your desk, And the expression I gloat. You grab an apple; take your time to sit While I am practicing perfect manners and wit. You do not read it at once, as I imagined you would, The woman in the commercial distracts you, Minutes elapse as you reach inside unsuspecting We are interrupted by the doorbell. The Chauffeur has arrived early; wearing his premature grin, I am left without choices; You are demanding answers from him. I open each of my closets they are naked and starving for love, I suppose in time, they will come forward and suffice. He takes my suitcases and coats; I fit inside the car like a stolen diamond in a glove, You are yelling obscenities at us, Barefoot on the driveway, Waving a paper you have not even read. You take no notice of our cat vomiting at your feet, I suppose tonight you won’t dare to trick or treat.
