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Bad Poetry

My Friends’ Husbands

You are a kind of family
Some very weird very distant cousin -
You are stuck with me and I’m stuck with you until death do you part.
Did you know when you picked her that you picked me too?

If we are a venn diagram then she is the middle and we intersect
And in this intersection
We sit, sexless, thigh-to-thigh on the couch
I help her fold laundry on a Sunday when you’re out of town, my fingers all over the hems of your shirts, the elastic waistbands of your underwear. (snap)

Her stories get confused in my memories
And I remember
the look in your eyes when you asked me to marry you down by the river
your hands on my knees when you went down on me in a back classroom
your cold pillow when you stayed out all night and never called
Makes me crazy

So when I see you I am clumsy
I have one foot in this memory that isn’t mine and the other in
this friendship that we didn’t choose
We sit, sexless, on the couch in a strange camaraderie
And she sits in the center of our intersection

But she was mine first.


Phoenix said...

LOVE this. So true. and not bad poetry at all! Girls belong to each other... reminds me of the Ani DiFranco song "If He Tries Anything." We are comrades first and that loyalty trumps all!

And yes, it is a weird pseudo relationship/friendship with the husbands, isn't it?

Lira said...

I LOVE this too! The only critique I have is to try it as "We are a Venn diagram and she.." as opposed to "If..then she..." Very strong piece, Marls. Write more!

Anonymous said...

Really, really good. I want more!

Marion said...

Awesome, sooooo *NOT* bad poetry!! I followed you over from Phoenix's blog. You're an amazing poet, girl. I'm happy to have found you!! Blessings!!

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