WIFE # 3
When Keith’s first wife left, she took half the Mikasa reindeer Christmas plates. His mom gave him the dinnerware – plates, bowls, glasses, everything. Keith gave his second wife a dislocated collar bone; she took the gravy boat. Keith had three of this, four of that. He was sad about it. Loves Christmas. Loves those plates. Target has nice Christmas plates – kind of like Keith’s but not exactly. I like the Target ones better. So I bought him this and that, trying to fill in what’s missing. Tonight I’m leaving Keith. Writing a note for the breakfast bar. There’s a reason the others left. Those plates are in mint condition, but I’m not taking my share. Let him enjoy a full table this year.
YOUR BELOVED LAWN
That you fed a soup
of spray-bottle fertilizer
mixed in the garage on Sundays.
Our dogs buried their noses
in its miraculous growth
until they grew
tumors in their bellies
and blood coughs before
death. You loved that lawn so.
Once I saw you on hands and knees
proposing, inspecting.
Sometimes when I am
in the old neighborhood,
I let the car cheat over your curb
long enough for the tires
to press down like
your thumb,
a print on the pulse
point of my wrist
tamping back
a second beat.