A Portrait of Living
Angel Rosen
There is always one unpainted panel
in every perfect house, there is always
one person who doesn’t take out the trash.
They’re sleeping on the lawn. The neighbor visits—
he reads, sweeps, sleeps and then claps
at a houseplant.
On the most perfect day, the dog gets sprayed by a skunk.
You risk a grilled cheese and the kitchen catches fire
moments before you remembered to buy
the fire alarm.
A burglar steals your couch and your telephone but
it still rings. There is always a mysterious phone call,
“They are coming,” it warns.
No one ever comes! House party!
You contemplate nothingness
and play a video game. Save as…
You wash the dishes in the bathroom sink,
fall asleep in a puddle on your way to the living room bed.
Time to move back home.
You can “motherlode” your problems away.
You evict the Goth family then try a new career.
You delete your husband to try the lesbian thing.
Bring the newspaper in.
Adopt a puppy. Build a pool for your family of six.
Bills are due! Time to sell the windows.
There is always one unpainted panel
in every perfect house, there is always
a broken appliance and
all the books you have to read to fix it.
It’s easier to buy a new one.
Sometimes it’s not enough to have
the biggest house with the Vibromatic Heart Bed
and three different lovers. Sometimes
you just go to work just to get fired.
Sometimes having everything you ever wanted is not enough
and you die just because it’s hot outside.
Sometimes, you swim because it’s hot and
someone deletes the ladder.