Everything is starting to seem like something else except for stupidity.
It's so reliable you can set your watch by it, or cross off the days on the calendar.
On the porch in the dark I've been waiting for the Mothership.
I haven't packed or written goodbye notes or set out extra food for the cat,
I'm just waiting.
My husband suggested a two-week travel package to China instead.
I replied, "Have you lost your fucking mind? Who'll cut the grass?"