5″ x 7″ on Somerset paper with Graphic Chemical Bone Black Ink.
The print was then hand colored with acrylic paint.

(I haven’t decided whether I like the black and white version
or the painted version better.)


for Jo-Ellen Truelove

You know my Joey, he’s a little man.

He wouldn’t even make a third of me.

Well he was jabbing at me, going on

about utilities, about the lights

and water and the phone.

“Marie,” he said,

“ya gotta shut your mouth. Your sister lives

in Maine. She isn’t living down the street.”

As if I didn’t know where Linda lives.

He stuck his bony finger in my face

and yelled about the bills. I hate it when

he pokes that bony finger in my face.

His face was red. “A bony lobster.” That’s

my name for him. He hates it when I call

him that. “Well Bony, why don’t you just pay

the bills and quit complaining. You’re at fault

as much as me.” I told him.

Lobster red

he was. His mouth was working up a fit

and that old bony finger jabbed away

a whisker from my nose. I said to him

I couldn’t hear a word he said. And then

I said, “I gotta make some water for

your bills.” and went to piss.

I hadn’t just

got seated, he had left the cover up

again, when there he was a jabbering

away. Well what do you expect a girl

to do? There wasn’t any way he’d give

me any peace. I couldn’t even piss

in peace. So sitting there, my dress all bunched

around my waist, I let him have it.


just bounced into the shower where he knocked

the curtain from the wall and landed there

surrounded by that plastic organdy

he’s always after me to throw away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s