TWO POEMS
Midnight in Iowa
It’s 1 AM on the east coast and midnight in Iowawhen the Russian lawyer with a house in Newarkand an office in the city sends me an e-mail:“Your writing is so emotional yet so detached.It’s wonderful.” I respond without delay:“Dear Oleg, I don’t know how you got my e-mail address,but I’m glad you enjoyed my work.You’re not the first person to say it’s detached.If you only knew! Just before I got your messageI was thinking about the tattoo on my husband’s thighWe met for dinner a few months after he moved outand as he undressed back at the apartment,there it was, a stick-and-poke from a friend.It was almost Christmas,days later he surprised me with a treewhen he came over to walk the dogs.A few days into the New Year, I left a tray of rat poison outin the middle of the kitchen floor.When I came home with the dogs the apartment was dark,I went into the bedroom and forgot about ituntil I heard Kelly chewing it.My husband let me use the car on the weekendsand I drove seventy over the 59th Street Bridgeto the 24-hour animal hospital,the three dogs quiet in the back.I called him, shouting over the elevated train, and he met me.The dogs were getting their stomachs pumped when he showed up.The doctor brought us into a small examination room and sat us down at a table.My husband sweated.‘What happened?’ the doctor asked.I said, ‘I forgot I left it out.’He said, ‘We got pellets out of Kelly.’The dogs slept on the ride home.My husband walked us upstairs and sat on the couch.He didn’t want to spend the night.
