To ignore the dust congregating 
under the side tables. To watch 
the dog swim through the house 
like a shark. To wear evenly the 
fluff of each couch cushion. To try 
a new TV show on like a stiff pair 
of jeans. To worry about your body 
and my body and how they fit together.
To ask the fridge again and again 
what are we hungry for. To listen 
to its persistent hum as it goes about 
its unthanked work. To ignore phone calls, 
messages, and those who would ruin 
the fantasy of being the last two people
remaining on the planet and have all
the time they want to give over to pleasure
by knocking on the door and asking 
if we would like our yard mowed or our
trees trimmed because it looks like 
they could really use the attention.