Love Poem No.19

By John Blase | July 4, 2014 |

You sit down on your blue exercise ball

with a full cup of coffee in one hand

and your iPhone in the other

then proceed to raise your feet off the ground

and say I’ve just got to find my balance.

All the while I’m silently freaked, watching you from my

dependable straight-backed chair thinking

Dear god, you’re gonna spill that coffee on the rug.

But this is how love begins these mornings

in the middle of our still-married lives,

you perched atop the world like some deity,

me noticing I’ve dribbled joe on my white t-shirt.