That short poem is so 1950s. I like the way
you made it so southern. And so subtly.
Tonight I’m going to make like I remember
the last decade. “These are things I should be
doing for number one,” you say. Let’s do the
untwist instead. Relationship update: all is
check; easier to tell; chopped off; and the
best. There are two bottles of lubrication
in the closet. Like when you find out your
dialect is more obscure than others. I
hear you crunch Doritos in the bedroom.
I check out the window for the day. It’s
in the mail like the little egg full of lip
balm I ordered. I’m lying in our little al-
cove in our blue bedroom with clouds. Ron
Howard is definitely no Clint Eastwood.
