Ever have a morning

Ever have a morning where everything 
seems to bother you? Where coffee filters 
conjoin like slurwords, and not even your longest thumbnail 
can separate what has become what? 
Where latte and cocoa puddle in the door of an overloaded 
dishwasher, the stove you told them time after time 
to clean is dirty yet again, and people, for the love of all
that’s holy, please wipe down the counter?
Where you open the pantry and feel pillage crawling 
on the hairs of your forearm, crackers and peanut butter
stand on their heads, oil segregates itself,
and you cannot distinguish between overreaction 
and whatever hunger led those kids to tear up the place?
Where you're so damn mad that no one can seem 
to keep things where they belong, that neither label 
nor text nor appeal to their better nature stick 
enough for them to do as you ask? The orderly thing?
The right thing? Maybe you should write a letter. 
Dear Mr. President. You’re going to start a war.  

Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
Copyright February 2025