Conversation With My Husband
You must remember Rocko’s wife I say to my husband.
Not really, my husband replies, maybe I never met her.
She had a hawk-like nose, I say. Real Beak-y.
And a collie dog face.
He gives me a look.
Her hips were enormous; they moved funny.
He gives me a sharper look. I feel judged.
She was a pretty girl, I say.
He is wisely silent.
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