Wish I Was There

I'm sorry that I always forgot
to unload the dishwasher
and I'm sorry that I lied about
never noticing the cat barf on the floor.
You see, I was so sure that I would never return.

I thought I was saving us, by removing
myself. I always hated the heat. I needed
to be in an icebox, free from sweat, a place
where I could write my masterworks
in peace and chilled quiet.

You begged me not to go, insisting
you didn't mind cooking every day
after all. That we could apply for jobs
further north, even though I knew
that you would never leave California.

It wasn’t that we were incompatible.
It was just that the weather was heavier.
How can we cuddle when it’s 120 out?
You’d hate it here. It’s eternally dark,
you can never wear skirts. The bathroom is…complex.

The views have been divine, as you can see, though
I can’t begin to see you, or our old house
in our old town, roasting in the middle
of that tragic sandpit. I hope that the drought
has ceased, that you can still take showers.

Wish I Was There

My math skills were never great, and my Russian
is even worse, so I don’t spend a lot of time
with the other guys. I’ve gotten a lot of writing done,
but I’m not a fan of the mandatory exercise
(zero-g is turning my bones into jello).

Anyway, sorry that I didn’t respond to you
before the power grid went out down there.
And I’m sorry that I stepped onto that ship,
And I’m sorrier still that I signed that slip
which keeps me up here for the next fifty years.

You see, I was so sure I would never want to return.