The Plants Dead And Yellow by Joseph Ridgwell

I collapsed onto a worn settee

And eyeballed the room

They were all dead

The potted plants

The yellowed stalks hanging crisp and tragic

I grabbed a cold beer from the fridge

And went back to the settee

All she’d been asked to do was visit

Once or twice while I was away

And water the fuckers

And as I sat

Looking at those dead plants

The thought struck me

That only a woman could be so cruel