There’s only so much self space.
Do we mean it? This commingling
our marriage bed and marriage temple is.
What’s a hrududu? Oh save my bunnies!
Here’s my battered teaching copy,
notes on Milton’s companionate ideal.
Which Bakhtin do you have? Which Lewis?
Oh, Ted Berrigan. Listen,
Whatever is going to happen
is already happening.
I’d forgotten you had this
an eight-decker Clarissa, 1811.
Books are portable capital.
But more than fifty boxes is bourgeois!
Everyman, I will be thy guide,
in thy most need to go by thy side.
I don’t suppose we need two Baudelaires
whispering their invitation to the vow:
Reader, I married you.
The player will show in this paragraph