It Came From Beyond

It Came From Beyond

It came from beyond imagination
because I lost the negotiation
with the emasculator I call “wife,”
extravagant ball and chain of my life.

It hangs over the sink and stares at me
especially when I’m trying to pee.
Its glittering eyes bore into my back
Stream-drip-stream-drip; I think I’ve lost the knack.

Sometimes after a hot morning shower,
I stay inside and try not to cower.
Its beady black eyes know all my secrets;
they measure my size and count my defects.

Its eyes are not the most horrible things;
it has little, sharp fangs and bat-like wings.
With cold, dull skin and grey as a head-stone,
it watches and waits, won’t leave me alone.

I’ve made up my mind ‘cause I am the man.
I don’t care if it fits her bathroom plan.
No gentleman should have to endure it;
this scrutiny during his private toilet.

My wife says it’s cute, our sink’s gargoyle spout,
but this ugly thing I’ll be living without,
‘cause regardless of my marital bond,
back it will go to Bed, Bath and Beyond.