yes, it’s nice to have the man around the house. claims, “i like dirt, i like dust, i like bugs, i like pieces of paper on the floor. i don’t like to change things once they start. i like clutter. i like lots of empty boxes and little notebooks laying around. i like wearing the same shirt with ink stains. when it’s clean it’s my cleanest dirty shirt. naturally i have two. in other words i’m a man who doesn’t like change. i dig arrangements permanent. if i’ve had it around for any length of time, that’s the way i like it. i don’t kill the insects that cross the floor. aren’t i saintly? they’ve been around, doll, for a long time. they deserve respect. no, it’s not always easy to live with me.” “they carry vermon around. why don’t you squash them, dear?” “i don’t like changes of things if they’re workin’! like i said. what’s wrong witchoo?” meals are the worst. my baby rips food with his bare hands, sticks bread crumbs in pickle jars, those bread crumbs that don’t fail to drop onto the floor when they’re not collecting in the beard, prefers paper plates, working off 3 or 4 at a time. luckily, that is, if we can GET him to sit. often ravages food right out of the fridge before coat and hat and black-white checkered scarf are off, more happy standing at the counter, dropping dripping. then there are the half apples half bananas quarter peaches left dead in the fridge. a man after my own heart. he’s a man of first takes, leaves rest as they rot and brown, and soil, holes in the apples, half live bananas, bread wrapped in excess paper, substances filled in plastic containers ten times the size needed, beans soups. the milk purchased at the latest dates, 3 - 4 at a time and then newer ones purchased at even later dates, ALL OPENED at the same time… “for freshness, baby…” cheeses ruined, 5 - 6 - 7 apple sauce jars opened in blasts of simultaneity and voracity. “better this way, yum yum,” while also with mouth full blasting verbal assaults on my brothers, his family, accolades for hemingway, bukowski…meat, too, is NEVER cut straight, the pot roast, potatoes ruined, squashed, mangled. water pitchers left empty. claims, “this has artistic value, love.” yes, it’s nice to have a man around the house, IF you can find one let me know. the puppies are getting tiresome.