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too many words

Bet’s sloppy mouth encrusted with syrupy waffle butter
sat motionless while her acidic statement
continued its venomous razor attack across my imploding soul.

‘Luke, you know I enjoy your writing.
I tell all my friends how talented you are.
It’s just…sometimes, not always, but now and again,
your word choice is beyond the spectrum of normalcy.
I get confused when you use too many words,’
listed from an unblasted food quadrant of her mouth.

‘It’s not as though I am asking you to read ‘Roots’,
I thought you enjoyed originality.
Bet, it truly makes no difference.
The font I dance with on screen
is created for my entertainment.’

‘In the event, another life force finds joy in that,
well, that’s a bonus within a bonus,’
ran out of me as I stood and pushed from our cozy, marbled kitchenette.

‘Oh honey, please don’t get grumbly or toss a tant.
It’s our first New Year’s Eve together in the new apartment,’
my fiancé assuaged while her hazel eye holes flickered
with the crisp, morning sun.

This was our third run at love with one another.

Sting extinguished all droopy mood energy as
his butterscotch vocal comfort drizzled
from the recessed Bluetooth speakers.

I leaned in to kiss the top of her auburn scalp
which pushed lavender aroma trails through me.

‘I’m going to hose off so we can get the place ready
for the countdown fiesta with Dana and Mark,’
I announced as Bet engaged the disposal which
choked down a neglected Impossible turkey lamb sausage link.

Thirty-eight minutes later I faced my enraged partner
who was crushing my cell in her trembling hands.

‘You son of a bitch, do you have any explanation as to the text
I just read on this?!!’ Bet screeched and hurled the device.

After a few nimble volleys that barely missed disappointed ceiling fans,
I gained control.
I could feel her nuclear death lasers run tracer points
around my body as I viewed reflective font
through an inconveniently placed shower water run-off drop.

Digital letters formed the following message:
‘LUKE, my love. I am so sorry to reach out as we have an agreement.
I pray nobody else reads this.
PLAN B pill did not take- We have a bit of an issue-
I need to see you – re: options.
Please, please, please contact me now, love you, Sab.’

‘Well, what in the holy hell do you have to say for yourself?!!’ Bet barked.

I distanced myself from the knives,
took a step back while calmly expressing,
‘For one, she used too many words.’

The freshly scoured frying pan soared past
my right ear making an unscheduled fireplace landing,
sending soot with tears
into atmospheres for a lifetime.

ABOUT THE ARTIST

Berthed from mischievous leprechauns near technicolor shadow lands surrounding Honah Lee, Theodore Wallbanger rides mysterious sparkle railcars bursting with crunchy cotton candy clouds dispatched from slippery erotic massage vixens who rage pillow laugh hourly within a splintered transportation module that screams along butterscotch wonder tracks forming vibrations for audiences across Sugar Hill Mountain.

Image generated on Magic Studio