The Bear Box


How I got caught moving the bear box by my proletarian girlfriend.
My girlfriend has covered every inch of our apartment
with kitsch that her mother the stewardess
collected from Athens to Port au Prince.
A dog's dinner of abominations.
Her favorite is a cute little itsy bitsy box
of tiny bears and trinkets
that makes me want to throw up.
It sits with its filthy inhabitants on the kitchen counter.
When she's gone I hide it but last night
she came home early
and surprised me calling from the apartment
hysterical about who moved her bear box.
I didn't know it was gone,I said innocently.
I promised to look for it diligently.
Then I suggested that it may have
jumped on top of the cupboard.
Near the refrigerator.
Boy did I catch hell.
I had to promise at least 20 times
never to move the bear box again.

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