Establishing Shot: Bed Bath & Beyond in Soft Focus
We want our walls pool-table green.
We warm our hands over bacon
grease. The fastest way to a man’s heart
is through his bloodstream. We saw
a commercial that made us want
to buy liquid soap. We saw a commercial
that made us want to shave off
our eyebrows. Nothing wrong
with drawn-ons, the TV said: no more
skin flakes; no more dandruff falling
like a torn-open Splenda. That’s true,
we said; nothing wrong with anything.
The orange carpet’s glued together
in tufts. The plastic palm tree’s strung
with bulbs like a bike chain. We take
tropical vacations beyond Bed & Bath.
We press play. A record clears its throat
of cracks, hisses. I made it through
the wilderness. The subtext of every
Madonna song is she’s talking about finding
America. This is where shopping carts go
to die. Give a man a fish. He wanted
a lampshade. Give us an accent rug.
We’ll ask why not a red carpet.
Portrait of Our Bodies as Fairfax & Sunset
It rains only once
all summer. Every night
sprinklers thrash
to keep front lawns
alive. His thighs
smooth and lined
with palm trees.
The sky, the houses,
his nipples:
sugar-sweet,
turquoise, unnatural.
The Halloween theme
fades in,
every thrust
a tour bus.
The moist backyard
caresses
dropped avocados,
and flies
mount piles
of dog shit.
