CHRISTMAS LIGHTS
I have watched how
a man
pats my dog,
holds my cat.
I have observed how
a man
washes the dinner dishes
in a sink of hot, soapy water
with a well-used sponge,
a clean dishtowel thrown
over his back.
I have seen how a man
shaves in the morning,
after only a few hours of sleep, and how
a man
handles the leather steering wheel
in a 1950s Willys Jeep.
But it’s the man
who knows how
to hang Christmas lights that’s your best bet.
That man
takes his time but not so much time
as to get on your nerves
because there’s still the tinsel and ornaments.
That man
every so often steps back
to see the overall effect,
to see if there might
be a cluster of bulbs in one spot
but not enough of them somewhere else;
to see if there is
a limb bent over
from a heavy ornament.
That man,
about whom all women fantasize,
is the man
who doesn’t complain
about how Goddamn long the whole thing takes.
