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The Novel Wouldn't Fit On His Body |
The novel wouldn't fit on his body
even after he shaved his head,
so he pared it down to a short story
for the time being, still didn't bathe,
ate like two horses, experimented
with different inks to find one
that wouldn't run when the sweat poured
midway through his powerlifting sessions,
gained a hundred pounds, tried again
to get the novel to fit on his body
but still it wouldn't, so he grew
his hair back, showered with a wire brush,
kept the extra hundred pounds of muscle,
went out looking for a wife,
found one, had a baby with her,
then another baby, and another,
is now watching and encouraging them
to grow, gently reassures his wife
that he loves her just as much as when
she could still get into her wedding dress,
frankly loves her even more than that,
loves his children more every day,
works continually on the novel he has by now
committed to memory, uses his bald spot
as an excuse to shave his head again,
records each child's growth spurts in pencil
on the kitchen wall, smiles as his wife eats,
thinks mainly of finishing that novel of his.
copyright 2005
Pete
Lee |
