Conjugal Pottage, Serves Two

Conjugal Potage, Serves Two

A dash of wisdom folded into
temporary bliss, to keep it
from curdling. Undiluted,
it tends to stick in your throat.
Throw in the bones
of yesterday’s rage to give it
texture. Nothing is less
appetizing than mush.
Do not puree each day to bits,
lest you spend your evenings
mostly solo. If you’re
daring enough, add argument
chunks—rows, spats, squabbles,
and tiffs, their origin
a tantalizing mystery.
Regret and disappointment
to taste. Don’t overseason,
though more often than not
you will. Simmer on low heat
for as long as you wish
to stay married.

First published in Folio Literary Journal, Volume 35, Spring 2020