Mistress of the House
Yelling like a cat
Wants to drink your coffee
But she can't have that
Vomits in your beard
Vomits down your back
Vomits on the laundry
And the CD rack
Everything now smells of vomit
Unless it smells of wee or poo.
If you think she's cranky now,
Just wait until she reaches two.
-
Here was where I'd put my Oscar
Where this squeaky toy now lies
These are diapers, not Pulitzers,
Dummies, not a Nobel Prize.
I was going to write a novel
I was going to clean the flat
Or just put a cleaner shirt on
But there isn't time for that
For there's something more important
Than the dreams I used to dream
Baby chairs and changing tables
Where my furniture has been
-
Sleep
I vaguely remember
The slumbering hours
I used to enjoy
Not any more
Now I stand rocking
And pacing the bedroom
And cheerily wiggling
This damn cuddly toy
This damn cuddly toy
Why can't you sleep? This is night!
That's what it's for, don't you know?
If I sing 'rockabye baby' once more
Then I think I will go
And throw myself
off a bridge
Like Russell Crowe
-
Red!
The colour of my eyes!
Black!
The coffee that I drink!
The coffee that I drink!
Loud!
The timbre of her cries!
Brown!
The nappy's potent stink!
-
Do you hear your baby scream?
Screaming at four o' clock a.m.
It's the screaming of a baby
Who has woken up again!
Though the pounding in your head
Feels like an angry rhino's tread
You're going clean your baby's bum
'Til tomorrow comes!
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