Rejected by the New Yorker

Poem for an Anniversary


Marriage is marriage.
So solid you can see it.
It's the picture on the mantel.
The matching china.
The Mr. and Mrs. SameName
On the back of an envelope.
We have rules for fighting
(Like the magazines say we should),
And rules for making time
For each other (more advice),
And talk through the troubles,
And stay together.
And Love each other.
No. Matter. What.

Then

Marriage is not marriage....
It's passion-turned-roommates
turned-CTO and CFO of SameName Inc,
turned-friends-then-lovers
and allthewayaroundagainitneverstopsonone-
i t ' s a l l e m p t y s p a c e b e t w e e n .
quarks and anti-matrimony,
try to pin it down
what is the one thing that holds
it all together?

Then

Marriage is Marriage

It's both the china
And the empty space between.
Away and home at the same time,
Separate and together.
It's all an act of
Improvised truth.
We are Mr. and Mrs.
Not because it should be so,
But because we make it so.
We could have been anyone,
But we ended up being each other.
And so.
Years, days, hours, moments,
Come to this.