Conversation Piece

A bright light flashed as we sat on the porch.
“Did that car just take a picture of us?”
she asked. “Maybe it was one of those
autonomous Google Maps cars,” I said. But then
the light repeated itself, and we thought,
though there was no thunder, that maybe
we were witness to lightning in the clouds
preparing for a visit to earth. Then the thunder
really did appear right before us
and a genie with red skin and a tail of smoke
boomed out: “Three wishes. Speak wisely!”
And without thinking we both said in unison,
“We want to be left alone.” And the genie
said, “That’s two wishes! Your third will
come when you open yourselves back up
to the world.” Then he vanished. We remained
on our porch swing. She said, “It’s getting cold.”
And I said, “How about some tea?”
So we went inside and closed the door.
I polished the teapot to no effect.
While I brewed, she put the third wish
in a frame and hung it on the wall next to our family
and Red Lenin by Andy Warhol. It was
crooked but we decided to leave it that way.

Rite of Passage: Mouth Day
Suppose a world where men inherit mouths
in their thirty-third year.
Maybe they spring up all at once
with hunger and a tongue.
Or maybe they sprout slowly
beneath the five o’clock shadow—
A zipper releasing on the world a box of monsters
one click at a time.
Prior, we nose-breathers ask ourselves,
silent as silk moths,
what words we will measure
when the mortar of our teeth dissolves
enough to show the light.

Adulting
The doctor prescribed a cholesterol medication
that interacts with alcohol. The algebra
of adulthood isn’t hard. Heart attack
later instead of sooner, that’s X.
Likelihood of liver damage is Y.
Everyone is on an actuarial table somewhere.
An abacus taking away one yellow bead at a time.
Water passes right through my Brita
like it’s not even there. Hopefully my liver does better
with blood. I only change the filter
every three months on my furnace. I frequently forget it.
At least the car has a cling on the windshield.
Now I envision one on every martini,
a warning that reads, “Memento mori, no matter
what you do. Put it off, but be advised this
may cause health problems.”