Ode to my Furniture

Oh, new night stand and sleigh bed frame --
how beautiful you once were
before the lotion and lovely gouge
marred your existence wrought
by the little weasel tot
running amock in our household.

And the lovely recliner which once
was a shade of beige and is now
a shade of caca and coffee brought on
by stinky, dirt-smeared hands of
one little weasel tot and the other jumping
big weasel with the blackened dirty
feet pretending to be Spider Man or
Kung Fu Panda --

And our third soon-to-be walking
weasel baby will soon add to the mess.

Yet, no one can do it like little weasel tot
who has also colored my caca colored stain-
smeared recliner arm with red marker
found in a drawer (damn) --
who somehow managed to break

Our beautiful glass of the coffee table
yesterday with his monster truck pounding
on the already cracked two-days-before top
of the glass
"Gabie did that!" "No, Christian deeed dat!"
with those fair-purchased
heavy magnets that weasel boy should have
hidden from weasel tot, but alas --

I digress. Oh, lovely coffee table, I shall miss
wiping the excess handprints off your beautiful
beveled glass face. Oh, how my weasals shall
miss being able to ride their mocoyos and trucks
and using the glass to balance as little weasel
baby tries to walk around the corner.

Now all we have
is a huge
gaping
hole surrounded
by
a useless frame.