Du Jour

 

Du Jour

 

Gary and Gladys are a tiresome pair.                                       

They’ll pick up the gauntlet

Without even a dare.

 

As grousing ensues, he points and she parries,

There’s no listening at all;

It’s only volume that varies.

 

It’s a tedious job to throttle ones mood.

Their arguments just collapse

My thoughts about food.

 

The bickering grows; takes another bad turn.

My menu is trembling and

My gut starts to churn.

 

Can’t they have pity and quit this tonight;

Give me some peace,

And stop this embarrassing fight?

 

What friends must endure with such crows all aflutter.

Really; all that I want

Is some bread and some butter.

 

My lips are a’pursed with clasp fastened tight.

But my mind races inside,

As they prolong this long night.

 

Then, from inside me, the well fills to top;

My reserve is now breeched,

And I can no longer stop.

 

I glare at them angered; they cease; silent and stricken

My chest swells as I blurt out:

“I think I’ll order the chicken !”

-Jerry Wendt 2009