I creak along the wood floor;
My weight lumbers like a fat king
Gnawing on his turkey leg bone
Dribbling fat slobber with smiles.

I wave my weighty arms at the air
Commanding bootless troops,
Growling at the empty chairs –
Crushing my hand on the oak table.

The water drips from the warped ceiling,
Heavenly answers for a parched soul:
My skin now soggy like a drowned frog –
A fat bullfrog stuck in a king’s suit.

I want to reach up and pull the soaked
Skin of my forehead, peel back the
Mildewed layers of my dreaded hair,
Whether ghoul or angel hiding there.

I sit at the table, empty and disjoined,
Reeking like a misplaced Humpty Dump.
My child tip-toes through the dawn,
Trying not to disrupt my snorzing slump.

I lift a lazy lid to watch her shift
Her tiny weight in quiet spurts on the
Wood floor, smile with furtive eyes
Spying me as she twists to open the door.