For Fireblossom Friday, she wanted us to write about what stresses us out— and me just coming through a kitchen renovation— according to experts the biggest stressor a marriage can endure. Dick was happily oblivious. I, however, was so stressed I couldn't possibly write a poem about it.
Today, I was halfway through reading an article in Mclean's Magazine when I realized it might make a fun poem.
everyone is getting lax
but saying “I am stressed to the max”
can’t plan your wedding?
can’t plant your bedding plants?
hire someone to do it!
don’t know how to do-it-yourself,
can’t put together an Ikea shelf?
look in the paperor else look online
a do-it-for-you-er
you’re sure to find
too stressed to find words
to propose to your lover?
have a ghost writer
hover above her
clean up your kitchen,
mop up your floors?too stressed for any
old-fashioned chores?
can’t bake a cookie?
just call your bookie
and he’ll find someone
who isn’t a rookie
can’t feed your baby?
not even maybe?
wet nurses are coming
back into style
can’t be a hockey mom,
too stressed to think?rent someone to take
your kid to the rink!
too tired to cheer him on?
what a phenomenon!
hire a cheering squad
and win your kid’s applause
no good deed’s too trivial—
hire someone convivial
to make your glum child smile
for the photographer at school
my world used to be
a do-it-yourself place
we used to build go-karts
for a neighborhood race
our dads built furniture
(sometimes unsteady)
and always our mothers
for baking were readyflour and sugar, eggs and good flavor
baking for all the go-karters to savor
but gone are the days
of the fifties and sixes
in this millennium
stress needs easy fixes
