Louise Glück Rewrites Anne Bradstreet’s ‘To My Dear and Loving Husband’

My body, your body
Embraced as a passion
Before mind began
To fatten into reason
Aging as we were
With children.
So: for a few years
The sex was good?
Yes, so what?
You never made
Enough money
But enlightened my
Childhood ideals
With only desire, nightly
Calling my bluff
(Ten times with restraints
Bedpost to bedpost)
A woman a hundred times
Better read than you (at least
In Greek myth)
And I will never forgive
You for that: But You!  You!
You forgive me for me!
For projections never
More fearful, never more dire
For a horror, a vengeance
I will miss more than
Earth!     

Mad

Sometimes it happens
That way—my friends all
Mad at me.  They don’t
Answer, or if they do
It’s to bait some flaw
Irrevocable I can’t help
Easily the country voice
(“Forrest Gump? Or is this
Karl Childers speaking?”)
Or perhaps it’s a mood
That doesn’t quite match up
To the free help they need
Moving to a bigger house
Or putting together a grill
With a thousand bolts.
Or it might be a milestone
Overlooked—a wedding party,
A godson’s soccer game–
Because I don’t like crowds
And prefer each player
A buddy of mine, that is,
Prefer to hear them talk
Or age for age commune
By common myth, our
Ancestors’ valor at Gettysburg,
Say, or how globalism sucks.
Yes, age for age, some ageless common bond!
A Reich that really lasts a thousand years
And doesn’t invade Russia
Nor blames the Jews en masse
For Jeffrey Epstein
Would be nice.
Or perhaps I should just
Learn more about soccer… 

First Guilt

My 4-year-old thing was boards
Scrapped from anywhere
(Those palings by the road
Not all of them rot)
And so I’d sort
And sort enough to build
Up and up and up
With rusty, salvaged nails
(As well)
A tree scraper—to my
Height of pride!
Until one day a girl
I’d played “Doctor” with,
Collapsed it, in my absence,
And blamed me for her fall.
The good news:
She later became a trial lawyer
Whose husband, at her suggestion
Offered me $20,000
To build a boardwalk
Up a dune
……………….To their mansion
The labor for which
(I told him)
I’d be donating
In her memory.