Little World War

with the

heater

set at 80 degrees

I

walk around this house

in nothing but

a pair

of olive green

boxers

sweating bullets

while

the wife

is

wrapped up in

thermal underwear

and one of

my

cardigans

buttoned all the way

up

we've fought over

the heater

since day one

it’s a winter

tradition

a verbal

snowball fight

fought

indoors

turn it up. turn it down.

turn it right. turn it left.

she always wins

of course

but her victory

is not so sweet

as she

now

has to watch me

walk around this

place

half naked

ribs and kneecaps

exposed.

stomach sucked in

I'm dressed

for Auschwitz

in July

and she's

decked out for

Stalingrad in

March

it's a little

world war

here at

our house

I doubt

we'll make

the history books

though