PoetryMine.Com

Poet’s Note: Names of American TV
“soap operas”, both those of the present
and those of the past that you may or may
not recognize, are Capitalized. I hope you
enjoy this free verse work.

Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman (repeated a second time for the
benefit of those with reading and/or hearing impediments) was
more than just a little concerned. Fact is, she was worried out
of her mind, her life out of control, in truth worried because
everyone and every object, everything she came into close
proximity with, within a few miles or so, seemed to morph
into one big mess.

Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman was convinced that, as certain
As the World Turns, her conceited husband, who considered
himself a charter member of The Bold and the Beautiful, was
having an affair. Every evening, before leaving the house, he
spent a couple of hours primping and preening before the
mirror in the master bathroom, blocking Mary Hartman,
Mary Hartman from using it, often at times when it was
rather urgent to do so.

Her husband was flexing what he called his “hunky bulk”,
when Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, intentionally or not,
she wasn’t sure, allowed the words to slip out of her mouth,
“Looks more like chicken fat to me”. Intentionally or not,
he allowed his “hunky bulk” to sag southward, spinning
abrupty to face her directly, firing back with an entire
repertoire of Passions.

His breath carried the aroma of at least one tall six-pack
in the delivery of his angry words, smothered in alcohol mist,
reminding Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman of last week’s
football game tailgate party on which she tried to concentrate.
But it wasn’t enough, and his whiny voice cut through the 5.0%
fog, managing an unwelcome entry into her ears.

“Now you listen here, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman”,
his attempt at a roar more like beer-powered sputter,
“I’ve got One Life to Live, and though I don’t often think
about yours, so do you. You might even say these are
the Days of our Lives. No one’s going to call us The
Young and the Restless, we’re more like the older
and grumpy and you’re not exempt. So don’t bug me
while I’m pumping up my muscles for my new squeeze
Sally McDermott, Sally McDermott”.

“Enough of him for this month”, thought Mary Hartman,
Mary Hartman as she spun on her heels and wandered
into the smaller half-bath, her demeanor wrapped in
Dark Shadows, but not really bothered she didn’t
waste time to perform her practiced tirade
about him staying nights over at McDermott,
McDermott’s delapidated trailer.

Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman knew she was hot, and
she would do just fine on her own if it came to that, she
reasoned, while admiring the image of her Twin Peaks
totally filling the mirror of the second bath. “Not bad” she
said to herself in the mirror, “It’s Never Too Young, or
something like that, I get confused”.

She was beginning to long for Another Life, and besides
she had things to worry about other than that jerk, lots
more. He was never much more than a Flame in the
Wind anyway, and after all, it’s not like there aren’t more
Desperate Housewives to pal around with to hit every
single bar in town. Lots more.

It was then that, as if magically, a Guiding Light directed
her attention to something she considered somewhat
important, something else to worry about. “Gosh darn it!”
she swore vigorously and out loud, “All My Children are in
General Hospital with an illness no one ever heard of
and just my luck, well, ok theirs, all 3 get that Young
Doctor Malone who I’m sure got his medical license
out of a box of Cheerios! These Are My Children and I’ll
be A Woman to Remember, in a negative way, if they
don’t get a doctor who at least printed his degree off the
Internet. I demand the finest medical care for my kids!”

Good news soon came in a double dose for Mary Hartman,
Mary Hartman. First, she managed to switch the children’s
care to a well educated doctor, Dr. Ryan, who had achieved
a 2.1 GPA before, after learning how to print his MD degree
from the Internet, dropped out of the 10th grade to pursue
his medical career.

Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman trusted Dr. Ryan, and Ryan’s
Hope was that a rather moderately priced over the counter
regimen would have the kids well in no time. . .2 glasses
of Kool Aid 3 times daily, taken with Gummy Bears while
listening to punk rock CDs. If it was good enough for Dr.
Ryan, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman knew she could
finally lay her concerns about the children to rest, focus
her energy on dumping her husband, and disregard
How to Survive a Marriage.

She now set out to Search for Tomorrow, and in so doing
found her second dose of good news, quieting The Secret
Storm inside her, and replacing it with Bright Promise.
Deciding a vacation would do the trick, Mary Hartman,
Mary Hartman threw a bikini, jeans, a couple of T-shirts and
plenty of Glitter together, and headed out for Malibu Shores.

After her very first day there, as she sat on a dock practicing
a Baywatch routine, repeatedly chanting “Watch Over Me”,
she lucked out precisely at The Edge of Night. A handsome
man from Hawkins Falls, though uninvited, plopped down beside
her, immediately winning her heart with “Hey baby, what’s your
sign?” They hit it off famously, and Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman,
within moments, transformed from a skeptic to believing maybe
Love is a Many Splendored Thing. Before the night was over, she
felt she had already taken her first Three Steps to Heaven.

The next morning, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, renewed with
a fresh Love of Life, picked The Yellow Rose from a vase of
flowers in her Hotel lobby, sniffed it, and returned to her room
with it to pen a “Dear John” letter to her worthless hubby. “Love
Is Where the Heart Is” she wrote, “and you may have noticed mine
is with me and not home with you. So see ya, wouldn’t wanna be
ya”. Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman always had a way with words,
A World Apart from her peers, and that’s the Bare Essence of it.

She filed for divorce in short order, feeling as if she had made a
Prison Break, and won custody of the 3 children who had fully
recovered under Dr. Ryan’s remarkable care. The morning after
filing, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman awoke early and, still
Undressed, with High Hopes for The Brighter Day, wished upon
a Morning Star, “Oh star of morn, let my new catch from Hawkins
Falls, one of The Monroes, fall under my spell. Please, oh star,
let us become Lovers and Friends”.

And sure As the World Turns, they did.

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