Married Life
23 May 2010
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We have run out of bookshelves.
Books pile at the end
of our bed, in your dresser drawer.
The dinner table belongs to
Hemingway; we eat on the floor,
our books held open
by the rims of our plates.
Yesterday, I realized
that if we washed our plates by hand
we might even use the dishwasher
to store Thoreau and Twain -
and so we wash up side by side,
stare out the kitchen window,
thinking about all the books
that we will buy tomorrow.
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