A Woman Cohabitates with Three Men
Not glamorous like it sounds. Two duplicates and the original.
They roar and snort. Beat their chests. Scratch. Always loud,
half-naked. Drop their garments like bread crumbs. Lose things.
Scratch some more. Lose everything beneath and behind. Inexplicable spaces
lodge their plunder: tablets, homework, tax returns, a chicken bone
altar. That yellow shoe I will have to find later,
my uterus translated into divining rod. Bodies as battering rams
of sound. Mismatched chromosomes. Weapons of chaos. Truncheons. Trebuchets. Terrors.
And yet, I love them. My sweet boys. Feckless warriors—
Destroyers of kitchens. Enemies of my solitude. You have been
too long from conquering. The wilderness calls your names, and
I say go. Take up your armor, gloves, and boots.
Sharpen your swing blade, hatchet, and rake. Cover your loins.
Go forth, my darlings, into the feral backyard and slay.
