Now I Have To Leave This Sofa

Now I Have To Leave This Sofa


Now I have to leave this sofa
where I’d gladly remain until
the end of my earthly days.
I must get in my car and drive
where many other cars will be,
my standard transmission
making it even harder to be
the lazy one I so love to be.
And the sofa will miss me,
will remember and keep the
indentation of my buttocks
until I return. (If I return.)
But I should return, as
there is a thick fog and
traffic will be slow — no
spectacular crashes today.
Bumper to bumper, I’ll
push that freaking clutch in
500 times until I’m back here.
But I shouldn’t complain.
I am heartily loved and someday
The Child will be a teen, driving
herself to my hell and back
and no doubt I’ll be missing
these simple days when all I
had to do was pick her up and
drop her off places I’d planned
for her to be, not sitting at home
worrying where she is and if she’s
okay, while this or another fine sofa
will have all my buttocks it can handle.

Jannie Funster March 2009