in-laws

spread the ironed carpet
over Tuesday’s post-work debrief
and check to see that no one
took more than a peek at your suitcase.

your parents will be arriving
to a dark living room’s shrugs
and I’ll motion to the futon
where our only cat perspired.

trust me, for I’ve counted
every quarter tucked in
the heels of my pumps
that’ll break in real time.

I’ll tell them I will be voting
for the first name that I think of,
but if I could do so with green crayons
I’d actually start to care.

every four years the worst
shall beg for pancakes
in each white morning’s chill
before we both hit “snooze.”

ignoring our tall tupperware
keeping frosted flakes crisp and fresh
and always happy to facilitate
the slow mastication of debt.

you go find a church
while I’ll devise some schedule
that detracts from our ongoing need
for Laundromats powered by wifi.

I will work the week
and you’ll return late
as I sit with them and argue
that our current wage is fair.

the airport’s not any distance
from where your lights need fixing
and I’ve brought tips for reading
on how one keeps her damn mouth shut.

lighting the candle
to wince at wax
falling from our palms
when ghosts knock on the door.

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