The Inscrutable Husband

Ours is the kitchen, the bed rooms, the sheets.
The closets, how many?
I lost count five houses back.

I can sit for hours watching you
watching you like a clock
as clocks watch surgeons
as surgeons look at their hands
you who unhinge garlic cloves
as were they little brains.
you who talk the holy storm
and greet the morning glory,
talking the kindred wrong.
I who listen like butter
or the wall on which hangs the clock
or the door knob slowly turning
or the little boy as husband looking how to run away.

Were I as good an actor as you a nightingale
were I as good as man as you the truest woman a guy could find
we two would've been invincible, a drill sergeant and her baton
we would've never argued, indeed we never do
when you're convinced you have me squarely
between your violet lips and your teeth
but being I am man and at that, a healthy spouse
I suffer attention deficit, chronic round the clock.

Always I got something cooking in my pot
a poem, a silly plot, a scheme just down the block
Oh, do not woe for me, Rib of mine, but rather for thyself .
Be accepting that man is man to roam about,
whereas women only other women and felines understand
cravings for attention more than balls of purring fur can have.

Were I a bar of chocolate, cut flowers would be my name
were I the wiser, the romantic game would be my scam.
Blame no one for my wiring, though.
In Hebrew it started, Adam and Jane
then Eve meets Tarzan in another epic film.
It has little to do with biology.
It has everything to do with steamy novels.

If ignorance is bliss, we'll all be blessed or likely damned
hope it's not as bad as it seems.
wish I knew myself for sure.
but, perhaps, I do know of what I speak
not by intelligence but hunch.

You, give me much to crunch;
thorns that prick and daffodils to pick
chain gang rocks to crack...

"She love me, she loves me not."