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  • Don’t make me go home when the women go home.

    Let me stay and talk about life and books and whether angels dance on

    Pinheads. I like the smokey rooms and glasses of Irish whiskey

    And slow, deep laughter.

    Don’t make me go home when the women go home.

    Let me stay and avoid the talk of what he said then she said

    And who wore what and who sleeps with whom and why won’t

    Her baby use the toilet?

    Let me stay and lean forward in my chair with my chin in my hands and

    My elbows on my knees or relaxed with my feet on the coffee table, belching

    between beers and bad jokes.

    Don’t make me go home when the women go home.

    Let me stay and be called by my last name and spill my drink on the rug

    And say “oh, what the hell,” but never make a move to clean it up

    Nor even to apologize.

    Let me stay amidst the shelves that need dusting and the week-old dirty dishes that

    Defy washing and stacks of recycling that never quite

    make it to the curb.

    Don’t make me go home when the women go home

    To sit in kitchens and worry, worry, worry over what the boss

    Said and what the husband didn’t.

    Let me stay.






    Photo from Wikimedia Commons
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