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.