family

a favoured over-estimation

Calmness leads to claws
flexing, with eyes 
closed or keenly
narrowed and fixed on
the sleightness of
disturbed air between
my incoming finger tip 
and his whiskers or 
incisors. 

An assumed cute boop 
results in bloodshed 
or rough abrading licks,
my hand or his meal
depends on whose needs
prevail. 

A strange noticing 
paralyzes my next
action, any reaction
either way, staying in 
or leaving his clutch
will be painful and
forgotten and 
forgiven before
dinner time. 

Regardless, I assume 
ownership of him, 
his care, and any 
injury that results
from loving him as
I do.

Kenmore dishwasher, 1983

We were the first 
among our neighbours 
to get a dishwasher 
it was my mom’s idea 
an empty solution 
to her feeling 
overworked 
under-appreciated- 
she was 
‘done with cooking 
and washing dishes.’ 

My eager dad 
got a good deal 
on a Kenmore from Sears. 
He ‘knew a guy’ 
that could 
do the install
so
the peace was kept
and shushing assurances
were made
‘I’ll take care of it. 
Don’t worry.’
He said. 
Her gaze hardened. 

His face flashed
fear like
that moment
of tension
just before the 
last crank
of a jack in the box
we all waited
for some
release
but nothing popped. 

This was much
worse. 

The look
on my mom’s face
wasn’t worry
it fell somewhere
between 
anger and disappointment 
like she was
glimpsing the future. 

Did she see her
new entitlement
still boxed 
squatting in the
timeout
corner
a month from now?

Could she know
that it
would serve
only as 
an extension
to our counter
for several years
before it’s wheels
were removed
it’s faux wood
top was unscrewed 
and it took its
permanent 
ornamental place 
under counter? 

Did she wonder
about
‘the guy’
my dad knew;
she knew
all the guys
that my dad 
knew? 

Was she scrying
that even
after the hoses
were connected
and the hydro
wired
that mustard yellow
dishwasher
would only
ever be filled
with cutting boards
and spare
Tupperware? 

Was she
admitting to herself
that what she really
wanted more than
freedom from
her chores
was for
us to want
to help
and 
that what we needed
was 
more cupboard space
and
what we had
was hands enough
to clean the
dinner dishes
and no 
volunteers
to help her?

how could they know?

The Amazing Race
goes to a 
commercial break,
two teams of
high fiving contestants
atop the Eiffel tower fade
to a McDonald's ad. 

'Remember Paris?' 
I toss across
the room at my wife.
'I do. Both visits.' 
'If only 
we would have ...' 
I wished.
'...gone up the tower.' 
She finished.

That seems
like another life,
before we
were us,
before marriage
and family
were even discussed. 

From then 
to now, somehow
other things
left undone
places
not gone
have become
'Eiffel towers'. 

Not exactly
regrets
maybe just
experiences
we weren’t ready
for yet. 

My kids,
our life,
sit on
the floor 
between us.
They suddenly
are curious.
'When did we
go to Paris?'

verisimilitude

another message
without
a subject line

a flat assumption 
that you are 
owed my time

and a reminder
what’s mine is yours
but mine ain’t mine. 

no matter
what i’ve said
or redefined

about changing our
relationship
for the thousandth time

you hear
your own voice only
saying ‘like this, is just fine.’

can’t stop, even for one second

~for karen


this heart,
skipping rocks
with ease downstream,
constructing beats knowing 
so little of the silly hopscotch of 
the world, just the constant 
push on its insides. no 
wonder it spends 
hour upon 
hour pressing back. 
with small miraculous feats- 
one thought, one pump at a 
time- all lines, blue, red, wish filled, 
and fine- tell so many simple 
stories on the skin 
in sighs. 
with a sure flow 
so thick there’s really
little doubt for whom these 
bellows toll. from where you perch, 
how does it sound though? what 
keys have you found? and
what traps have 
you wrapped 
around my soul? 
at first I thought you 
were a thief.  oh this heart, 
my gold, my light I thought you 
stole it, instead you moved 
in and built a life- 
not soft or hard, 
but just right.