Stephanie Brown
Marriage
One day my husband came home with a jar of generic peanut butter.
He used it for the mousetraps.
One, two, three, they were dead.
One squealed as his fur was pulled off into the glue.
He threw him into the sewer only half-dead.
The day before he had been running.
Hopping out of the trash can onto my foot.
Running along the edge of the closet.
Another: four. Another: five. Another: six.
I said I would make peanut butter cookies.
He said, are you going to use that generic peanut butter? Gross.
He did not want the cookies.
He said, I don't even like peanut butter cookies.
I said, you told me you liked them.
He said, I don't remember.
Not remembering!
As I went on, I actually stomped my foot.
Not remembering what he says!
He was taking off his tie. He was hanging up his shirt.
He says, you need to be more strong.
He doesn't know that this will never make sense to me.
I'm not interested in being strong, as he is not interested in remembering.
Stephanie Brown, Allegory of the Supermarket, University of Georgia Press, 1999.