My Marriage

On Tuesday my wife says come here
and takes me by the open palm toward the kitchen
where she opens the refrigerator to show
that it is almost completely empty. Tonight
might we go and get more food, she pleads.

On Wednesday again she takes my hand
and pulls me to the kitchen and opens the cupboards
to show the bags of rice and lentils
that are bunched into the darkest corners. She points
to the peanut butter, nearly gone. She argues, tonight,
surely we must go and get more food.

On Thursday it is another show of emptiness.
On Friday a look of desperation. Over and over she brings me here
to show me what was once there but is now gone
and asks if I am willing to help her replenish.
Can we go out into the world now.

On Saturday instead of gardening, on Saturday
instead of sweeping the stairs,
instead of cleaning up the electrical box in the basement
or visiting our parents, we do nothing. I lay on the couch
in front of a box fan and she lays beside me sweating.