Bad Investments

Women are the only proof I have seen of God, a vindictive God.

She was a collection of small disasters.

Exposed nails in missing plaster,

Cracks and water stains.

Gains metered by minor failures,

Walls show signs of broken lives,

Hearts and minds left behind

In the wake of tragic ripples.

I bring on broken women,

The Pied Piper of the punk rock princess.

Troubles roll from shoulder to shoulder,

From head to heel to me.

I take them all, her tiny disasters,

And plaster the cracks in her walls.

New paint on old bricks, clean exteriors,

Hanging pictures over punctures

And sweeping debris under rugs.

I’m the master of the fixer upper.

Too bad the market crashed.