I thought she said, Come visit my vagina,
but apparently I was wrong. Something
about China, it turned out. Embarrassed
by wind, I turned my good ear to the ground
to listen for China, the one we dug for
until we could no longer dig. I turned
my good eye to watch a dog humping
a leg across the street. Do this in memory
of me, it barked. Shake a leg, buddy,
I may have said. Last day of drinking
in the yard, sunny November Saturday.
In the wet grass, my ear tickled. I listened
for the sea. Our kids long gone, no one
to trample that grass. Happy Anniversary,
by the way. I always wanted to go to China.
Did she just call me a booze clown? No.
Lose something down there? A small plane
pulling a banner advertising God
passed overhead, and I heard that.