how boring, happiness
by Molly Smith

how boring, happiness, he says
i'd sit on the couch eating frittos
and watching the superbowl thinking
life doesn't get any better than this
rather than talking to you about
cough syrup and freon freaks

i know, i say, why don't we vow
always to swim naked from now on
even when the water is cold
he tilts his head to the ceiling and replies
that'll get boring eventually too
and what if you get fat?

more of me to love? i giggle
now hand me that remote

Molly Smith is a an extremist who writes to curb the racket in her brain. She is the editor of Failed Seeker, a poetry 'zine based out of Dayton, Ohio. Comments on her work can be addressed to alterochelyosef@juno.com.