Jan/Feb 2002 • Poetry |
A Taciturn Daughter-In-Law Replies
The washing machine was mine.
He left it turned on.Sparks flew when I scissored
the connecting rubber tubes,attached like his tie to the placental cord.
I worried if the water in the laundrywould kill my mother-in-law.
I half hoped it wouldshock her into some human form
that didn't need to rely on domestic chores.When he left the backdoor open
he must have knownI'd cut any electrical appliance
reminding me of a wastethey misunderstood
as defiance.