Dinner Scene

kitchen clamor and cantankerous drums~for insignificant silence when little mother hums~to a folly of a beast with a papered bottom~full of himself when he should have oughtn't~now lies there 'neath the torrid feet~a clumsy feline with its treat~to snatch a toe and catch a nail~while tottering bucket of tears do fail~to bring the words of praise or coo~to the insipid wine for two~but the cheese will rot from the inside out~and the outside's in when the the lies no clout~on the lips of a fish in a cup on a shelf~near the picture of men of refinement or wealth~smoking pipes and cigarroos buy an iron stove flame~between the chairs of a carded game~with chips and dupes at the table not play~but go home quite sadly to the mother they made

can you hear the absence of sound or light~will you smell what she's cooking in a dress too tight~pulling up for to dine on the Chinese of glass~stabbing mysteriously with steal for the one piece last~of a sup gone wrong when the doorbell rings~to disrupt all the beautiful dinner please~as an ad man walks in to offer untruth~and sees what is made on the clothe as proof~that the right place and right time and right house will provide~after a journey of driving all night the divide~for to masticate gesticulate the utter joy~of the invite and chair right next to the boy~with the papered bottom and one chew-ed toe~where the cat oh so wicked lays on back for a roll~and a tummy rub comes with a nip of finger food~from a new family member whose eyes become glued~to the sanity therein at the whole silly scene...did you read it in one breathe for to see what I mean?

~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.