I Love Her So Madly

 
      want so much to please, that when she complains of my leaving dandruff 
on the sheets, whiskers in the sink, pee on the toilet seat, I build a
 large black plastic cube to live inside. 

     Five pin-sized air-holes and a straw through which I sip protein drinks 
are my sole contact with the world in which my dear one shines.  

     I've learned to re-absorb my wastes, and will away my beard.  Since, in
 the dark box, sweat lacquering my underarms can't gleam, and lost hairs 
flutter, soft as feathers, to the unseen floor, I no longer fear offending.

     Still, the groans and whimpers wafting from our bed, the clink of male 
belts, and an intermittent scraping, makes me fear my box is edging out the door 
               -Charles Harper Webb
        
more poems:
Anne Sexton
Edgar Allan Poe
Emily Dickinson
E. E. Cummings
Henry David Thoreau
John Keats
Langston Hughes
Lascelles Abercrombie
Pablo Neruda
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Robert Frost
Sylvia Plath
William Butler Yeats
William Shakespeare
William Wordsworth