Empty House

by Jennifer L. Baum

Roam the halls of this unfamiliar home

Find the scattered remnants
Of the family that once lived here,

Steps echo in the empty workshop—
Tool pegs huddle naked in the glare of the bare bulb,

Miniature boots stand alone on the porch
No longer in the shadows of an adult pair,

Missing photographs accent the walls bare
The spicy scent of aftershave has evaporated to a memory.

Copyright © Jennifer L. Baum 2003

It's All His Fault

by Jennifer L. Baum

The accusations and recriminations
fly through the air
like a swarm of angry bees
searching for their victim

They argue about responsibilities,
nights our with the boys,
interfering mothers-in-law

And always; always
they argue about him

He lies in bed
clutching Teddy tightly
burying his head under his tear-soaked pillow
hiding from the angry voices

He knows it's all his fault,
If only he could figure out
how to be the perfect son,
They could figure out
how to have the perfect marriage.

Copyright © Jennifer L. Baum 2003

Tolerance

by Jennifer L. Baum

A suburbanite
living just an hour
from a metropolis

He understands
bus schedules, train schedules,
subway stops

He is tolerant
of the blacks
the gays
the influx of immigrants
that overflow
onto the streets of his suburbia

He does not understand
rural roads, rednecks,
or the Conservatives
who preach their "family values"

He scoffs at
the Heartland of America
the Moral Majority

THOSE PEOPLE
don't live in his world
and THOSE KIND OF PEOPLE
aren't tolerated.

Copyright © Jennifer L. Baum 2003