Styx on the Stereo.
Image via Wikipedia
He stands stubbornly in the doorway,
knowing she would leave if he moved.
He and the wall, covered in tomato sauce
her eyes shoot daggers at him.
Marriage, he thinks, should be easier;
her favorite seven letter phrase explodes
and she retreats to the bedroom to cry,
pout and remind him he’s an asshole.
All I said was, can’t we have something else?
Spaghetti seemed to be the only food group
and he had complained. Through the door
he hears her weeping.
Tommy Shaw plays on.
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