A Woman Cohabitates with Three Men

Not glamorous like it sounds. Two duplicates and the original.

They roar and snort. Beat their chests. Scratch. Always loud,

half-naked. Drop their garments like bread crumbs. Lose things.

Scratch some more. Lose everything beneath and behind. Inexplicable spaces

lodge their plunder: tablets, homework, tax returns, a chicken bone

altar. That yellow shoe I will have to find later,

my uterus translated into divining rod. Bodies as battering rams

of sound. Mismatched chromosomes. Weapons of chaos. Truncheons. Trebuchets. Terrors.

And yet, I love them. My sweet boys. Feckless warriors—

Destroyers of kitchens. Enemies of my solitude. You have been

too long from conquering. The wilderness calls your names, and

I say go. Take up your armor, gloves, and boots.

Sharpen your swing blade, hatchet, and rake. Cover your loins.

Go forth, my darlings, into the feral backyard and slay.