Poem: Legitimate Martha (An Apology of Sorts)

Legitimate Martha (An Apology of Sorts)

She worries about
all the little things
and all the big things.
You might say she is
generally worried.

What is happening
in the Gaza Strip?

And why does her son
want to dye his hair
to look like all the
other shitty kids
who dye their hair and
don’t do their homework?

Why can’t Tyler fix
the dryer at work?
Is it really fair
to expect her to
take home fifty pounds
of used, white linens
for no extra pay?
Laundry wasn’t in
the job description.
Two masters degrees
and a PhD
and she’s folding towels?

And what about the
husband she married?
No, not the first one—
that was this other
whole disastrous thing—
but the second one.
He was thinner then
and much more employed.

Dammit, that one hurts.
She had hoped to pay
her daughter’s tuition,
build up a nest egg,
and travel the world.
Instead she’s washing
soiled sheets and towels,
busy worrying
about everything.

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