Friday, May 15, 2009

Cohabitation Suite (Three Poems)

I. Living Together

My girlfriend and I live together in one small room.
She went in the kitchen for a brief moment,
And sitting at my desk, I thought to myself,
How nice to be alone!

Then she came back in,
And I felt odd, like I had done something wrong,
Cheated on her in some way with the wrong thought.
But instead of confessing, I said,
“Honey, can you get me a glass of water?”

And back she went into the kitchen.

II. T.P.

My girlfriend and I moved in together,
so now there are all the little things
Like how one places the toilet paper roll
on the toilet paper holder to discuss.
Or how exactly and to what degree
she is going to cuddle with me in bed.
How much of her weight will she
ever-so-slightly shift onto me?
And how much of my weight on her?

So the toilet paper was again rolling out
from underneath this morning,
And I can’t stand it that way,
how it spills all over the floor,
How it makes us look like barbarians:
t.p. must roll out from over the top!
So I talked to her about it this morning,
and I think everything went swimmingly.
We saw eye to eye on this crucial issue,
and certainly this bodes well.
I imagine all will continue to go
as smoothly when the baby arrives.

III. My Girlfriend Struggles With Her Key At The Door

She is back from yoga, her key in the door,
And I hear her jiggling it, back and forth,
In and out—the damn key doesn’t fit quite right—
And I sit here thinking, Should I get up and open
The door for her? I wait. The jiggling continues. I wait
Another moment, listening to the struggle. In the end, I wait it out,
Saying to myself, Now is my chance to finish the line I’m working on.