Saturday, March 7, 2009

Lists

You have made endless lists                    I, on the other hand
of things to do                                                   have never made a list,
before 3:15,                                                       knowing, if I did,
relatives to pick up                                        that it would be misplaced or stolen,
from the airport,                                             traded for something better,
songs to sing                                                      left on a bus downtown
at karaoke on Tuesday,                                after it fell out of my always
habits to break,                                               unzipped bag,
hobbies to start,                                               on a restaurant table
songs to sing                                                      after I used it to tally the tip
at karaoke on Friday,                                    or have coffee spilled on it
lists to write and                                              by the cat as she walks across 
places to write them                                      the counter top.
that aren't to loud
or smoky                                                              My pen, if it hasn't also gone
or closed on Sunday.                                    missing, dry or otherwise,
                                                                                 would never get its chance
You keep them all                                           to dot, X, check, or slice
in a little black book                                      through a single
and when a task is complete,                    letter, word, or phrase.
you carefully slide the book
out of your coat pocket,                                 But it is comforting to know
find the appropriate page,                          that you would be there,
and cross through triumphantly.            black book in hand,
There are no dots,                                            to make a list of all the possible
no X's or check marks,                                  places my list could be
no notes reading DONE,                              and another shorter list
only a line slicing the words in half,      of who's closed
a much neater death than by eraser.    on Sunday. 

2 comments:

Marsha said...

Love this! You are a writer too! It must run in the family. I assume you wrote this?

Suzette said...

Yes I did. It's about my husband, the list-maker, and me, the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-er.