Rough Stuff

These are middle drafts of the three newest poems I've written. They've come out sort of as a series--because they are concerned with similar topics. I swear I am no where near ready to be married, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, in the abstract I guess. I'd be curious if you married people had any thoughts, particularly about "And". Anyway, here goes:

And

And stand together but not too near together
For the pillars of the temple stand apart…
--from “On Marriage,” The Prophet, by Gibran Khalil Gibran

And (+) conj. 1. the most basic connector: “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” man and wife, man and woman, boy and girl, male and female, master and servant, mother and father, sister and brother… 2. Yin and Yang? Earth and Sky? 3. consequently: “I saw her across the room and my heart stopped and she made me do the craziest things. I couldn’t sleep! Days on end, I couldn’t eat! And then, finally, she agreed to marry me.” she: “And it’s been heaven since then, hasn’t it?” he: “What are you talking about woman?” and pinches her ass. she: giggles and sighs (and sighs and sighs and sighs and later they will moan their regular and uneven chorus). 5. The final joint in a series: ironing his shirts, cooking him dinner, and bearing his kids. 6. The present is an addition, the future an addition, to the past, and to our collected imagination, and our history, and our symbols and signifiers and systems. 7a. In the News, Marriage is turning into an Elite Institution, like before... Marriage in America is capitalism’s wet dream, full of SUV’s and IRA’s and Caribbean cruises and Thanksgiving feasts. 7b. And the revolutionary rant: Polyamory! Raising children in tribes! With many who can act as parents, and sharing knowledge and tasks and celebrations, like before… 8. But back to marriage, which your mother tells you is something that will certainly some happen to you, which your father tells you he put you on this earth to do: to marry and join your good genes with some other’s good genes, and in the end you will continue the line, fill out the tree. 9. The advice-giver clears the advice-giver’s throat (Ahem!): “A successful marriage is a combination of chemistry and hard work.” 10. The concave form and the convex it lays against; like two folds of flesh inside a closed fist.

after A. Van Jordan


After Dinner

I am happiest behind a sink
of dirty dishes; scrubbing pots
makes more sense than sitting
in the swill of satiated
conversation.

Try to talk about what is happening
or what happened or what will

happen,

and you might trap me,
briefly, in the bones of memory,

but then the light will catch
the corner of my periphery,
flash like a rocket’s sizzle
in a darkened sky, and I bolt upright,
for there will be water to boil
for Turkish coffee and tea,
tupperware to fill,

wilted, oil drenched lettuce
to brush off of plates.

I am

I am older wiser stronger stupid fragile
breakable fixable trickable tall pale
freckled smelly scented woman girl
female bitch whore angel virgin am I

Sometimes the house we live in
feels like a small, cold sickness,
tight and falling in on our heads;
then one day I came home,
slowly pushed open the door,
and the windows
flooded
the dusty floors
with light.

The food I cooked for dinner was
hidden, wilted, bought last week
that night we ate burritos instead,
but I cut it, touched it, built it
and we talked over it
and very slowly cleaned up,
talking still and eating
small, sweet berries, their
bright juice settling
over
the meal.

And there are spaces in my love for you,
where the thought of loving you
is laughable but
here there are stars
and tendrils of silent sidewalk air
crawl over us as we
trace street corners
and deeply
breathe
the night.

I am virgin angel whore bitch female
girl woman scented smelly freckled
pale tall trickable fixable breakable
fragile stupid stronger wiser older am I

(Thanks to my writing circle, Jim, my Individual Vision class, and my sister for reading some/all of these is such early stages.)