Poem: An Especially Eventful Tuesday
because of Tacos or Two-fers
or the hair harvested like sod from Hasidic volunteers (Jew fur).
No, Tuesdays are terrific around here, at my place and
at the neighbors’. Tuesdays are
when our domestic servants, our help, our remunerated slaves, our euphemism of choice –
we get our houses cleaned by people who don’t live
in houses as nice as these houses.
“Housecleaners.” That’s another one for the list.
Tuesdays are always when the wealthy white people who live
on my street come home from law offices and violin lessons and a panoply of splendid pursuits
to a domicile that looks as though no one lives
there, like it has been unoccupied all day, which
Marvelous Tuesdays! Cleanest moments of the week. Dirtiest moments of the week.
I am some kind of success, you see, for
I pay a brown woman to do the on-the-knees labor, the work,
the unpleasantries I and the brown woman who is my wife
prefer to assign, to offer, to exploit someone who needs the money that
How fortunate, a three-legged dog with patience, that Nature
the great leveler
always brings slave and master together in communion.
This terrific Tuesday we were overrun by ants. Black ones
that stink when crushed. In my dream
they made a nest with millions of eggs, grains of sand, and thousands of caretakers, and somewhere
a Queen – and it was all inside the circuit-board warmth of the CD player on the mantel
in the living room
where I listen to my wife’s records
where I listen to my brown wife sing about connecting to
the higher vibe.
May all living creatures be happy and free, I hope somewhere
a Queen, as I commandeer the vacuum from the less valuable living creature
who works to keep my home free of ormigas and other reminders