invited or otherwise
she hangs on my t-shirt like
the grimy fingered 5 year old I used to watch on
Sunday nights. When his mom went to her
she could be a better
She demands my attention,
pulls me one way then the
I can't resist her watery eyes,
the fierceness of her tug.
I want to watch tv or
put dino-bites in the toaster oven,
or anything else.
I swear it will be the last time,
no more bounced checks
no more dried macaroni on my second-hand jeans:
I'm getting too old for this!
Yet somehow it is Sunday again,
I pull up to the house, let myself inside
they see me