every time I hiccup I’ll think of you
and your flood pants
your panic at any uncertainty
at your own uncertainty
I’ll think of your mustard sandwiches
you, eating a whole red pepper
chomping on a cucumber, uncut
every time I hiccup I’ll think of you,
hiccuping loudly
keep it down, I’d say,
then smile and squint and
try to keep it in until it all came out
and you’d say, you shut up,
in your work-husband way
I remember when you yelled at me once
and I had to get up to cry
because I was right and you were wrong
sorry ’bout that, you said
next day you hiccuped
and I relented
now I’ll leave, and every time I hiccup
I’ll think of you
and your receding hairline
and how you offered me kosher crackers
one time.
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