5.06 / June 2010


Facebook friends are like
dirty socks at the laundry —
For each friend I add,
two go missing inside
the empty machine I search.

Arts & Leisure

We held hands through all of Rocco and his Brothers.
Now, we’re divorced.

When the brutal brother Simone raped Nadia, you covered
your eyes with my hand.

That was touching.   Later, when you begged me to beat you,
that was not.

When we split, I sometimes thought, ah, if only I’d beat her,
but then what?

What would we have told my mother, who never liked you,
but who forbade me

ever to raise a fist against a woman.   In that respect only,
I’ve been a good son,

but a bad husband?   I don’t know — maybe a good husband,
but you wanted bad.

I remember how angry it made you when I said I wouldn’t
sleep with your friends —

they weren’t pretty.   You didn’t like me to talk while you read
Arts & Leisure, either.

Did you finally find your brute?   You know, Rocco and his Brothers
is on DVD.

I wonder how your friends are, if you’re still reading Arts & Leisure
I’m still talking.