Marriage: a user’s guide

Final Draft (with Carolee Sherwood)

Remember the cat and the burning popcorn. Don’t assume your spouse is the source of all bad odors.

You come home with strange photos on your iPhone. It’s awkward to pass them around at breakfast.

How much time is spent finding a reliable source of food? Shouldn’t you know your spouse is a vegetarian?

Mumbling sarcastically “I think I see Jesus” is not the best way to say “good morning.”

Do you bend for hours with your face in the fish tank? It’s time to rethink how you pass the evening.

For a fun birthday surprise, find embarrassing photos of your spouse and hang them from the ceiling like party streamers.

To establish solid lines of communication is key. Stealing your spouse’s clothes and locking them out of the house is almost never necessary.

That the utility pole in the backyard looks like a cross is not an invitation to a crucifixion.

If, instead of kissing you in the rain, your spouse blames you for bad weather, be flattered at their belief in your omnipotence.

If your spouse buys the wrong toilet paper just to start a fight, then stop using toilet paper.

To open your parachute, pull your own cord.

The best time to arm wrestle is in the morning before coffee.

If you must offer your spouse a correction, do so with an unwavering elegance, the way worms hang strands of silk and mucous.

As with cave dwellers, the biggest challenge facing modern couples is each other.

* * *

(First Draft)
To set shoes on fire is one thing, but in fairness they should contain no feet.

Remember: folding a thousand socks is not the key to recognition.

Don’t forget: each of you hides your own twisted helix.

“Darling” sounds so much better through a clenched jaw.

To entertain guests is admirable, but to hide in the closet and watch? Seedy.

Study the way textiles frame the window then ask “Which would make the best hood?”

Make friends with the word “perpetual.”

If you tend to dominate conversation, occasionally ask to be excused for private moments of self-punishment.

Even, no especially, when bound with nylon rope, it’s important to maintain your “public” face.

Remain silent while driving — don’t waste insults on strangers.

Everything is alleged.

Each day, savor your allotment of affection.

Given that scenario in the kitchen, whose ghost would you conjure?

Look in the mirror and smile as you practice the refrain: “Here’s your shirt!”

* * *

This is the result of a collaboration with Carolee Sherwood. I’ll talk about my process (which is slightly different than hers because I’m easily confused and I mucked up a few steps). Please go read her excellent poem and process notes here.

This is what I did: First, I gathered a random list of 14 words from the American Hybrid poetry anthology. (This wasn’t part of the official process, but is a standard way for me to begin a poem.)

Then, I wrote a sentence using each word under the title Marriage: A User’s Guide. Those sentences are above, titled “First Draft.”

I chose seven of those sentences, split them in half, mixed them up and emailed the mixture to Carolee. Again, go see the amazing work she did with those fragments.

Carolee mailed me 15 of her own fragments which I used to make the 14 lines above (titled “final draft”).

Thank you Carolee! This was a great time!