It was my birthday
And you were wonderful
in your anger and rage
Always justified
Always so righteous
candles and flame
I wonder how
you keep that “pissed off”
moment waiting
in the wings
So perfectly timed
to burn the cake
and the whole day
Another birthday
remembering that all those “Oh, good,
let’s do that” moments were yours
Never mine.
But instead we’d go for a ride, another ride
and you would talk politics or money
and I would stare out the window
wondering where the bathroom was
or what it looked like in that town on the edge
of the highway flying by
Eventually we would get home
and I’d cook and wash the dishes
You would listen to the ham radio guys
chat up the world problems on twenty meters
and then you would tell me what they said
while I read or watched TV
No flowers came.
Just a happy birthday to you
then bed.