Living with Men – Alyse Knorr
I teach them the stove and the washing
machine; they teach me whiskey and how to
fuck girls: spell her name, spell her address, spell
the alphabet. They cook steaks every night,
shit with the door open, disassemble tables.
There’s a jack-off tally on the fridge and I’m
in the lead. We have meal moths, bats, black
mold. Wild mint and watermelon, petrified
corncobs. Wooden lawn chair missing half
its rungs. We listen to the war on the radio
and I learn their ancient ways. At night we
baptize the floors with beer and toast
the ones who left us. After every hour,
another hour. After every sin, a trial.