Us, in the Kitchen

A Poem

Me and V being stupid, and Tracy taking care of everything else.

Good morning, good evening, good afternoon, whoever you are, wherever you are. I love you. 😉

Much of the reason I have been so slack on Substack these past months is that I spend most of my free time writing poems and submitting them to literary journals. It's sort of an obsession. Writers, I know I'm not alone.

And this is when I am not helping people buy and sell beautiful beach homes, or watching my wife help the kids with their homework or taking out the trash (I serve a purpose. I’m necessary).

With that said, I probably write an average of a poem a day. Not all splendorific masterpieces, but still some form of worded delusion falls out of me. A lot of times while I’m driving, or in the shower, or almost asleep. Some of them can be silly, like this one.

I figured I should share some of these poems with you rather than hide them away in the underground tunnels of submissions queues; sometimes they are down there, out of sight, for years.

You see if you submit to a lit mag, and they accept it, they want to be the first to publish it. So, once it's on here, this is considered a publication, and, really, it’s going to be its final resting place, unless I place it in a book of poems someday.

But I think I should share. You deserve it. I deserve it. Substack deserves it. So let’s get to the poem. I wrote this one this morning after a brief interaction with my family, as we were getting ready for our day.

The poem should read as a series of couplets, so if it gets jumbled, you may need to look at it on a larger screen to see it as intended.

Us, in the Kitchen

Me: I wake up at night writing Poems in my head,
that's all I do. It's better than making up problems.

Son: I make my problems 
into Song.

Wife: I make my problems into Bread, 
then I give it away.

Daughter: I kick them in the Butt, tell them
to go away!

As you see, my family
has no problems. We are

tucked away in bliss.
Together, we break a helluva 

lot of bread. You can 
be happy, too.

This is a public service announcement
from Bliss Utility, and Sourdough

Starters United: Instead of baking 
up problems, pay your "happiness dues."

Shit looks good, doesn’t it. Talk to my wife.

Thank you for reading. It means a lot.

Hope you have a wonderful day (and life).