Convergent Spilt Milk

Noodle is refusing to eat dinner
He wants the lid off his milk.
The house is in a mess
And Knickers has to leave for nightshift.
I take it off
'Hold on tight' I say
'Hold on tight' he parrots
As he upends it on the table
A white tsunami
Engulfs him, Knickers, his dinner, my textbooks
Ride of the Valkyries blares from the radio.

Knickers is in our bedroom
Walking it off.
Noodle is in his cot
Competing with the crescendo.

I tell her Mark texted me today
From Sydney, where I vicariously
Live his single life.
A prostitute threw a carton
Of strawberry milk over him
When he declined her offer
Of $20.00 for the works.
'I know how he feels,' she says
Slipping a clean shirt
Over her Fertility Goddess torso.

I lean against Noodle's doorway
(He raises his fist
Defiant, unrepentant)
And warn him against
The path he is pursuing.