You take the cranberries & I’ll take
the mice. You take the lawn mower—
you take it—& I’ll take the rake. You take
the good nozzle & I’ll take the grass seed
that I will eat while drinking the wine
that I’ll obviously also have to take
as well as the generator that I’ll sit on
& pretend is a vacuum. You take
the window & I’ll take the Windex.
You take the light bulbs & I’ll take
the sockets & you can take the camera
if I can have that time we first saw
Calvary Cemetery in New York
& Queens when I was like O! O! O!
& you were so very tragically mad
& away & to be fair it really was
snowing hard & on your shoulders was
the drudgery not to go too fast
on worn tires not to even mention
the desire to play the guitar with me
not nearby plus the fact of how crushing
life was going to be back home in Maine
where so many trees had to be marked
& felled & stacked & chopped & lit
& burned & scooped as ashes out
plus so many nerve-racking shipwrecks
at your work where all the hurt
of all the people of all of poor America
sit to this very day all upon you
sort of snuffing you out, & so you take
the headstone, baby, & I’ll take the grave.