High Maintenance

Medium Maintenance

While switching hands

on her cell phone

she asks me, “Am

I high maintenance? What

does that really mean?”

I tell her that I think

she’s medium-high, like

the heat for melting butter.

“But what does that mean?”

she asks again. 

I sigh, look out the window.

A Chinese woman walks by

with her Pekinese dog

on a rhinestone leash, 

shoulders hunched before

the wind. She has on the

most elaborate feathered hat.

So I say, “With a woman

who’s high maintenance,

you must remember to 

tell her that everything 

she wears is perfect.

With a low-maintenance woman,

the clothes she wears are immaterial.

“And medium high?”  she asks.

With a medium-high, I say,

you need only tell her

when she looks fabulous. 

The rest she already knows

better than you.